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THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  • BOSTON  * CHICAGO 
DALLAS  • SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  & CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  • BOMBAY  • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 


THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


OBSERVATIONS  AND  IMPRESSIONS 


JAMES  BRYCE 

AUTHOR  OF  “THE  HOLY  ROMAN  EMPIRE” 
“ THE  AMERICAN  COMMONWEALTH,”  ETC. 


WITH  MAPS 


NEW  EDITION  CORRECTED  AND  REVISED 


Nriu  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1914 


All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1912,  1914, 

By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.  Published  September,  1912.  Reprinted 
October,  November,  December,  1912  ; January,  1913. 

New  revised  edition,  February,  1914. 


NortoootJ 

J.  S.  Cushing:  Co.  — Berwick  & Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


TO  MY  FRIENDS  OF  THE 
ENGLISH  ALPINE  CLUB 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/southamericaobse00bryc_1 


PREFACE 


This  book  records  observations  made  and  impres- 
sions formed  during  a journey  through  western  and 
southern  South  America  from  Panama  to  Argentina 
and  Brazil  via  the  Straits  of  Magellan.  The  nature 
of  its  contents  is  briefly  outlined  in  the  Introduction 
which  follows,  so  all  that  I have  to  do  here  is  to  acknowl- 
edge gratefully  the  many  kindnesses  I received  in 
every  part  of  South  America  which  I visited,  and  in 
particular  from  the  following  persons : Colonel  Goethals, 
Chief  Engineer  of  the  Panama  Canal,  and  other  officers 
of  the  United  States  engineers  stationed  there,  and 
Colonel  Gorgas,  head  of  the  medical  staff ; the  officials 
of  the  Peruvian  Corporation  in  Lima  and  of  the  Peru- 
vian Southern  Railways  in  Mollendo,  Arequipa,  and  La 
Paz ; the  officials  of  the  Antofagasta  and  Bolivia  Rail- 
road Company ; those  of  the  Transandine  Railway 
Company  in  Chile  and  those  of  the  Buenos  Aires  and 
Pacific  and  Argentine  Great  Western  Railways  Com- 
panies in  Mendoza  and  Buenos  Aires,  and  also  those  of 
the  Leopoldina  Railway  in  Brazil.  Nor  must  I fail  to 
express  my  obligations  to  the  heads  in  New  York  of 
the  firm  of  Messrs.  W.  R.  Grace  Co.,  who  advised 
me  regarding  my  journey,  and  to  my  friend  Professor 
Bingham  of  Yale  University,  who,  familiar  with  South 

vii 


PREFACE 


viii 

America  from  his  own  travels  and  studies,  has  given  me 
valuable  help  in  many  ways. 

I have  also  to  return  my  respectful  thanks  to  the 
Governments  of  Chile  and  Brazil,  who  were  good  enough 
to  extend  to  me  facilities  for  travel  on  their  railways, 
and  to  the  Governments  of  Peru,  Bolivia,  Argentina, 
and  Uruguay  for  other  courtesies.  To  many  states- 
men and  scholars  in  these  six  republics,  too  numerous 
to  mention  by  name,  as  also  to  not  a few  of  my  own 
fellow-countrymen  from  Britain  and  Canada  who  are 
there  settled,  I am  indebted  for  hospitality,  for  private 
acts  of  kindness,  and  for  valuable  information. 

JAMES  BRYCE. 

June  27,  1912. 


NOTE  TO  REVISED  EDITION 

This  edition  has  been  carefully  revised  and  many 
corrections  have  been  made  in  it. 


Febbuary  26th,  1913. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


Preface  

PAGE 

vii 

Introduction 

• 

xvii 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 

The  Part  of  the  Isthmus  and  the  Strait  in  History 

# 

# 

1 

The  Isthmus  of  Suez  and  the  Isthmus  of  Pauama : 

The  Route 

from  Colon  to  Culebra  and  Panama 

• 

2 

View  from  the  Hill  of  Ancon  .... 

• 

9 

The  Natives  of  the  Isthmus:  The  San  Bias  Indians 

• 

13 

The  English  Raiders : Drake  and  Morgan  . 

• 

• 

15 

The  Canal : Gatun  Locks  and  Lake 

• 

• 

19 

The  Great  Cutting  at  Culebra  .... 

• 

• 

24 

Administration  and  Sanitation  of  the  Canal  Zone 

• 

26 

Failure  of  the  French  Undertaking  due  Primarily  to  Disease 

28 

Commercial  Prospects  of  the  Canal 

• 

• 

33 

General  Impressions  made  by  the  Isthmus  and  the  Canal 

• 

35 

CHAPTER  II 

THE  COAST  OF  PERU 

Cold  Climate  of  the  West  Coast  .... 

• 

• 

• 

37 

The  Antarctic  Current 

38 

Aridity  and  Barrenness  of  the  Peruvian  Coast  . 

• 

• 

• 

39 

Payta : The  Guano  Islands 

40 

Lima:  General  Aspect  and  Buildings  . . . 

• 

• 

46 

Life  and  Society  in  Lima 

• 

• 

51 

Mollendo  and  the  Peruvian  Southern  Railway  . 

• 

• 

54 

First  View  of  the  Andes 

56 

The  Desert  of  Western  Peru  .... 

• 

• 

• 

57 

The  City  of  Arequipa 

60 

ix 


X 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


PAOI 

The  Volcano  of  El  Misti 61 

Oriental  Aspect  of  Arequipa 64 

Character  of  the  People  of  Arequipa 66 

A Story  from  Colonial  Days  .......  69 

CHAPTER  IH 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS 


Physical  Character  of  Peru 

Crossing  of  the  Andes  from  Arequipa  to  the  Central  Plateau  of 

Lake  Titicaca 

Scenery  of  the  Valley  from  the  Plateau  to  Cuzco 

One  of  the  Sources  of  the  Amazon 

Market  Day  at  Sicuani:  The  Quichua  Indians  . 

Cuzco : Its  Situation  and  Aspect  

The  Spanish  Buildings  at  Cuzco 

The  Ancient  Buildings : Inca  Walls 

The  Prehistoric  Fortress  of  Sacsahuaman 

Impression  made  by  the  Remains  of  Ancient  Peruvian  Work  . 

Historical  Associations  of  Cuzco 

[Note  on  the  Fortress  Walls  of  Sacsahuaman]  . . . . 


75 

80 

81 

86 

88 

95 

96 
102 
107 
114 
114 
118 


CHAPTER  IV 

LAKE  TITICACA  AND  THE  CENTRAL  ANDES 


The  Central  Plateau  and  the  Lake 119 

Inhabitants  of  the  Plateau : The  Aymard  Indians  . . . 121 

Scenery  of  Lake  Titicaca 124 

The  Shrine  of  Copacavana 128 

Voyage  to  the  Sacred  Islands 130 

Koati:  The  Island  of  the  Moon 131 

The  Island  of  the  Sun  132 

The  Bath  and  Garden  of  the  Inca 133 

The  Sacred  Rock  of  the  Wild  Cat 135 

View  of  the  Snowy  Range  of  Sorata  or  Illampu  . . . 141 

The  Lake  of  Vinamarca 143 

Tiahuanaco  and  its  Ruins 144 

Impression  made  by  the  Ruins 147 

Character  of  the  Ancient  Peruvian  Civilization  ....  152 

The  Primitive  Religion  of  Peru 156 

Government  and  the  Policy  of  the  Incas  .....  160 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


xi 


CHAPTER  V 

LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT 

PAGE 


Origin  of  the  Bolivian  Republic  . 

. 166 

General  Physical  Character  of  Bolivia 

. 167 

Approach  to  La  Paz  : The  Barranca  . 

. 168 

Climate  of  La  Paz : The  Mountain  Sickness  or  Soroche 

. 171 

The  City  and  its  Environs  .... 

. 174 

Character  and  Habits  of  the  Bolivian  Indians 

. 179 

The  Plateau  from  La  Paz  to  Oruro 

• 

. 186 

Uyuni : The  Great  Bolivian  Desert 

• 

. 191 

Passage  through  the  Andes  .... 

• 

• 

• 

. 198 

The  Borax  Lake  and  the  Volcanoes 

• 

• 

• 

. 199 

View  of  the  Western  Cordillera  . 

• 

• 

• 

. 203 

The  Desert  of  Atacama  .... 

CHAPTER  YI 


CHILE 

The  Three  Regions  of  Chile  .......  206 

Northern  Chile : The  Nitrate  Fields 207 

Megillones  and  Antofagasta 210 

Valparaiso 212 

Santiago 216 

Pedro  de  Valdivia  and  the  Rock  of  Santa  Lucia . . . . 218 

Chilean  Society  and  Politics 220 

Southern  Chile : Its  Climate  and  Scenery  .....  223 
The  Coast  Cities : Concepcion  and  Talcahuano  ....  225 

Lota  Valdivia  and  Corral 227 

The  Araucanian  Indians : Their  History,  Customs,  and  Religion  232 

Osorno  and  its  German  Colony 239 

Rio  Bueno 242 

Attractiveness  of  Southern  Chile 241 

Lake  Rinihue  and  the  Chilean  Forests 244 


CHAPTER  VII 
ACROSS  THE  ANDES 

The  Andean  Range 248 

The  Uspallata  Pass  from  Chile  into  Argentina  ....  250 
Construction  of  the  Transandine  Railway 251 


Xll 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


PA6E 

Scenery  on  the  Chilean  Side 253 

The  Tunnel  under  the  Summit  of  the  Cordillera  . . . 256 

Scenery  on  the  Argentine  Side 256 

Aconcagua  and  Tupungato 257 

The  City  of  Mendoza  260 

Argentines  and  Chileans 264 

Return  across  the  Mountains  and  Ascent  to  the  Cumbre  . . 267 

The  Christ  of  the  Andes 269 

Observations  on  the  Scenery  of  the  Andes  in  General  . . 271 

Comparison  with  the  Himalayas  .......  276 

[Note  on  the  Passage  of  the  Andes,  in  1817,  by  the  Army  of 

General  San  Martin] 280 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 
Discovery  of  the  Straits,  and  Circumnavigation  of  the  Globe,  by 


Magellan 284 

Voyage  of  Sir  Francis  Drake 286 

The  Coast  of  Southern  Chile : The  Sea-birds  ....  286 
Approach  to,  and  Entrance  of,  the  Straits  .....  290 
The  Scenery  of  the  Western  Half  of  the  Straits  ....  291 

Punta  Arenas  and  Tierra  del  Fuego 300 

The  Eastern  Half  of  the  Straits 304 

General  Observations  on  the  Character  of  the  Straits  . . 305 

Their  Historical  Importance 307 

The  Falkland  Isles,  their  Character  and  Products  . . . 308 

Their  History 311 

Their  Scenery 313 


CHAPTER  IX 

ARGENTINA 


The  Approach  to  Buenos  Aires 315 

Aspect  of  the  City 316 

Society  in  Buenos  Aires 318 

Physical  Character  of  Argentina 324 

Inhabitants  of  Argentina : The  Gaucho 327 

Agriculture  and  Ranching 329 

The  Process  of  Settlement : Labour 330 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS  xiii 


The  Scenery  of  the  Pampas 

Economic  Prospects  of  Argentina  .... 

The  European  Immigrants  ...... 

Character  and  Tendencies  of  Society  in  Argentina 
Argentina  the  Most  Modern  of  South  American  Countries 


334 

336 

338 

341 

346 


CHAPTER  X 

URUGUAY 

How  Uruguay  became  an  Independent  Republic  . . . 349 

Resources  of  the  Country 350 

The  City  of  Montevideo 351 

Population  of  Uruguay : Immigrants  and  Natives  . . . 355 

A Revolution  in  Uruguay  356 

The  Whites  and  the  Reds 357 

Causes  of  the  Revolutionary  Habit 358 

Prosperity  of  Uruguay 362 


CHAPTER  XI 

BRAZIL 


How  Brazil  fell  to  the  Portuguese 366 

Physical  Features  of  the  Different  Parts  of  the  Country  . . 368 

Voyage  from  Montevideo  to  Santos 370 

Santos  and  the  Railway  to  Sao  Paulo 372 

The  City  of  Sao  Paulo  and  its  People 374 

Approach  to  Rio  de  Janeiro 377 

Aspect  of  Rio:  The  Bay  and  the  Mountains  ....  378 

Scenery  of  the  Environs  of  Rio 382 

Petropolis  the  “ Hill  Station  ” of  Rio 384 

Excursion  through  the  Mountains 386 

A Brazilian  Forest 390 

Naval  Mutiny  at  Rio 395 

Economic  Resources  of  Brazil 402 

The  People : German  and  Italian  Immigrants  ....  405 

The  Negroes  and  Indians 407 

Recent  History  of  Brazil 410 

Character  and  Tendencies  of  the  Brazilians  ....  416 
The  Future  of  Brazil 420 


xiv  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  XII 
THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 

PAGfl 

The  Colonial  Empire  of  Spain  divided  into  Sixteen  Republics 

or  Nations 423 

What  is  a Nation? 424 

Process  by  which  New  Nations  Arise 426 

The  Administrative  Divisions  of  the  Colonies  the  Basis  of  the 

Division  into  Republics  ........  427 

Influences  which  differentiate  Nations 429 

Geographical  Position 429 

Physical  Environment:  Climate  .......  430 

The  Aborigines : Their  Number  and  Character  ....  432 

The  Struggle  for  Independence  and  the  Civil  Wars  . . . 434 

Recent  Economic  Development : Immigration  ....  437 

Which  of  the  Republics  have  become  Nations?  ....  438 

Chile  and  Argentina : Mexico,  Peru,  Brazil  ....  441 

The  Caribbean  and  Central  American  Republics  . . . 441 

Does  there  exist  a Common  Sentiment  of  Spanish- American 

Nationality? 444 

Will  the  Present  Political  Divisions  be  Maintained?  . . . 447 

Prospects  of  International  Peace  in  South  America  . . . 448 

CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 

Importance  of  the  Aboriginal  Element  in  Spanish-American 

Countries  ..........  454 

How  the  Native  Tribes  came  to  Survive  .....  455 

Probable  Present  Numbers  of  the  Indian  Population  . . . 458 

The  Indians  in  Peru  and  Bolivia 460 

Present  State  of  these  Indians,  Social  and  Religious  . . . 460 

Ulloa’s  Report  on  their  Condition  in  the  Eighteenth  Century  . 463 
Universal  Illiteracy  of  the  Indians : Their  Civil  and  Political 

Status 465 

Relations  of  Indians  and  Whites:  No  “Colour  Line”  in  Latin 

America 470 

How  the  Presence  of  the  Aborigines  has  affected  the  Whites  . 475 

The  Negroes  in  Brazil 479 

Three  General  Conclusions  regarding  the  Native  Indians  of  South 

America 480 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


xv 


It  is  not  certain  that  they  have  injured  the  White  Race  by  In- 
termixture   481 

Demoralization  of  the  Peruvian  Indians  by  the  Spanish  Con- 
quest, and  Subsequent  Oppression 481 

Racial  Repugnance  not  a Universal  Phenomenon  in  the  Rela- 
tions of  Peoples  of  Different  Colour  .....  482 

CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  TWO  AMERICAS  AND  THE  RELATION  OF  SOUTH 
AMERICA  TO  EUROPE 


Origin  of  the  Name  “ America  ” 484 

How  it  came  to  be  applied  to  Two  Continents  ....  486 
Some  Physical  Similarities  of  the  Two  Continents  . . . 488 

Some  Similarities  in  their  History 489 

“ Teutonic  ” America  and  “ Latin  ” America  ....  490 

Divergent  History  of  the  Two  Americas 492 

The  Indians  : The  Mines : The  Settlers 493 

Different  Methods  of  Government  ......  494 

The  Two  Wars  of  Independence 496 

The  English  Colonies  held  together  while  the  Spanish  split  Up  499 
What  “ Teutonic  ” and  Latin  America  have  in  Common  . . 500 

The  Contrasts  between  them  are  More  Important  . . . 504 

Present  Attitude  of  Spanish  Americans  to  North  Americans  . 507 
Real  Affinities  of  Spanish  America  are  with  Some  European 

Peoples 512 

Sympathy  and  Intercourse  with  Spain  not  very  Close  . . 513 

Relations  are  Most  Intimate  with  France 518 

Are  the  South  American  Peoples  a New  Group,  with  a New 

“ Racial  Type  ” ? 520 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  CONDITIONS  OF  POLITICAL  LIFE  IN  SPANISH- 
AMERICAN  REPUBLICS 

European  Views  of  Spanish  America  during  and  after  the  War 

of  Independence 524 

Physical  or  Geographical  Conditions  affecting  the  Political  Life  527 

Racial  Conditions : The  Aborigines 528 

Economic  and  Social  Conditions  .......  532 

Historical  Conditions  in  the  Colonial  Period  ....  534 


XVI 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Historical  Conditions  during  and  since  the  War  of  Independence  536 
The  Peoples  of  the  Republics  began  with  no  Experience  in  the 

Methods  of  Free  Government  ......  537 

Some  Revolutionary  Leaders  did  not  approve  Democracy  . . 538 

Would  Monarchy  or  Oligarchy  have  been  Better?  . . . 540 

Differences  between  the  existing  Republics:  Three  Classes  of 

States 541 

Some  have  truly  Republican  Governments 543 

Influences  making  for  Political  Progress 546 

European  Judgments  on  Spanish- American  Republic  unduly 

Severe 550 

CHAPTER  XYI 

SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS 

Rapid  filling  up  of  the  Cultivable  Areas  of  the  World  . . 552 

Regions  available  for  Settlement  in  South  America  . . . 555 


The  Temperate  Regions 556 

The  Selvas  of  the  Amazonian  Plain 558 

Possible  Future  Population  of  South  America  ....  563 


Elements,  Aboriginal  and  White,  in  the  Population  . . . 564 

Phenomena  of  Race  Intermixture  in  South  America  . . . 566 

No  Predominant  Type  in  the  South  American  Peoples  . . 568 

Spanish  Americans  misjudged  because  their  Conditions  at  Time 

of  Independence  were  not  Understood 570 

Evidences  of  Social  and  Political  Advancement  ....  573 

South  America  has  suffered  from  Want  of  Intellectual  Contact 

with  Other  Countries 574 

The  Spanish  Race  stronger  on  the  Practical  than  on  the  Intel- 
lectually Creative  Side 577 

Backwardness  of  Knowledge  and  Intelligence  in  the  Rural  Parts 

of  Spanish  America 580 

Decline  in  the  Influence  of  the  Church  and  Religion  . . . 582 

Continued  Vigour  of  the  Spanish-American  Race  . . . 584 

Note  I.  Some  Books  upon  Latin  America  ....  587 
Note  II.  A Few  Remarks  on  travelling  in  South  America  . 588 
Index 591 

Maps.  South  America. 

The  Isthmus  of  Panama. 

Parts  of  Peru  and  Bolivia. 

The  Straits  of  Magellan. 

Parts  of  Argentina,  Uruguay,  and  Brazil. 


INTRODUCTION 


Whoever  read  as  a boy  the  books  of  old  travellers 
in  the  Andes,  such  as  Humboldt’s  Aspects  of  Nature , 
or  pored  over  such  accounts  of  the  primitive  American 
peoples  as  are  given  in  Prescott’s  Conquest  of  Peru  must 
have  longed  to  visit  some  day  the  countries  that  fired 
his  imagination.  These  had  been  my  experiences,  and 
to  them  there  was  subsequently  added  a curiosity  to 
learn  the  causes  which  produced  so  many  revolutions 
and  civil  wars  in  Spanish  America,  and,  still  later,  a 
sense  that  these  countries,  some  of  them  issuing  from 
a long  period  of  turbulence,  were  becoming  potent 
economic  factors  in  the  modern  world.  So  when  after 
many  years  the  opportunity  of  having  four  clear 
months  for  a journey  to  South  America  presented 
itself,  I spent  those  months  in  seeing  as  much  as  I 
could  within  the  time,  and  was  able  to  make  some 
observations  and  form  certain  impressions  regarding 
the  seven  republics  I visited.  These  observations  and 
impressions  are  contained  in  the  following  pages.  They 
are,  of  course,  merely  first  impressions,  but  the  impres- 
sions which  travel  makes  on  a fresh  mind  have  their 
value  if  they  are  tested  by  subsequent  study  and  by 
being  submitted  to  persons  who  know  the  country 
thoroughly.  I have  tried  so  to  test  these  impressions 
of  mine,  and  hope  they  may  be  of  service  to  those  who 
desire  to  learn  something  about  South  America,  but 


XVII 


INTRODUCTION 


xviii 

have  not  time  to  peruse  the  many  books  of  travel  that 
have  been  written  about  each  of  its  countries. 

The  chief  points  of  interest  which  these  countries 
have  for  Europeans  and  North  Americans  may  be 
summed  up  as  follows  : — 

1.  The  aspects  of  nature. 

2.  The  inhabitants,  the  white  part  of  whom  are  of 
Spanish  origin,  except  the  Brazilians,  who  come  from 
Portugal. 

3.  The  economic  resources  of  the  several  countries. 

4.  The  prospects  for  the  development  of  industry  and 
commerce. 

5.  The  relics  of  prehistoric  civilization. 

6.  The  native  Indian  population. 

7.  The  conditions  of  political  life  in  the  several  re- 
publics. 

It  may  be  convenient  that  I should  explain  how  far 
and  in  what  order  each  of  these  topics  is  dealt  with. 

The  first  eleven  chapters  of  the  book  contain  a de- 
scription of  what  I saw  of  scenery  and  of  social  and 
economic  phenomena  in  the  seven  republics  of  Panama, 
Peru,  Bolivia,  Chile,  Argentina,  Uruguay,  and  Brazil, 
and  in  these  chapters  the  first  three  of  the  above-men- 
tioned subjects  are  dealt  with  when  and  as  each  country 
is  described.  It  is  Nature  that  chiefly  engages  the 
traveller’s  mind  in  Peru  and  Bolivia,  as  it  is  economic 
development  which  interests  him  in  Argentina  and 
Uruguay.  In  Chile  and  Brazil  he  must  be  always 
thinking  of  both.  The  fourth  topic  has  been  treated  so 
fully  by  many  writers  who  have  brought  special  knowl- 


INTRODUCTION 


XIX 


edge  to  it  and  have  written  professedly  for  the  informa- 
tion of  business  men,  that  I have  not  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  fill  this  book  with  statistical  tables  or,  indeed, 
to  do  more  than  indicate  the  possibilities  for  commercial 
development  or  agricultural  immigration  which  the 
natural  resources  of  each  country  seem  to  promise. 

It  is  only  in  Peru  and  Bolivia  that  any  prehistoric 
monuments  exist.  Some  of  the  most  important  and 
interesting  of  these  I saw,  and  in  describing  them  I have 
endeavoured  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  character  of  the 
ancient  Peruvian  civilization  (if  that  name  can  properly 
be  applied  to  it)  and  of  the  people  who  produced  it. 
This  is  done  in  Chapters  III,  IV,  and  V.  § c: 

Only  in  Peru,  Bolivia,  and  Chile  did  I have  opportu- 
nities of  seeing  the  native  Indians.  In  the  two  former 
states  they  constitute  a part  of  the  total  population  far 
larger  than  in  any  other  state  (except  Paraguay) : they 
are  nominally  Christians,  and  they  lead  a settled  agricul- 
tural life.  In  Chile  there  is  only  one  considerable  Indian 
tribe  remaining,  the  famous  Araucanians.  Of  these 
warriors,  of  the  Quichuas  in  Peru  and  of  the  Aymaras  in 
Bolivia,  some  account  will  be  found  in  Chapters  III  to  VI. 

In  the  above-mentioned  eleven  descriptive  chapters  I 
have  endeavoured  to  individualize,  so  to  speak,  the  chief 
countries  of  South  America,  so  as  to  bring  out  the  chief 
characteristics,  natural  and  human,  of  each  of  them. 

But  marked  as  are  the  differences  between  the  various 
republics,  they  have  all  something  in  common,  some- 
thing that  belongs  to  South  America  as  opposed  to 
Europe  or  North  America  or  Australia.  There  are 


XX 


INTRODUCTION 


also  certain  general  questions  affecting  the  whole 
Continent  which  present  themselves  to  the  traveller’s 
mind  and  need  to  be  discussed  upon  broad  and  gen- 
eral lines.  To  these  questions  the  last  five  chapters  of 
the  book  have  been  devoted.  One  chapter  endeavours 
to  indicate  the  causes  which  have  divided  the  vast 
Spanish-American  dominion  (including  Mexico  and 
Central  America)  as  it  stood  in  a.d.  1810  into  the  six- 
teen independent  republics  of  to-day,  some  of  which 
have  become,  others  of  which  are  becoming,  true  nations 
with  marked  national  characteristics.  Another  chapter 
deals  with  the  relations  to  the  white  population  of  the 
aborigines  in  the  Spanish  countries  and  of  the  negroes 
in  Brazil,  the  only  state  in  which  negroes  are  numerous. 
It  is  a subject  of  study  all  the  more  interesting  because 
these  relations  are  altogether  different  from  those  borne 
by  the  European  element  to  the  coloured  races  in  the 
British  colonies,  in  India,  and  in  the  United  States  of 
North  America,  and  also  because  the  intermixture  of 
races  which  is  now  going  on  in  South  America  suggests 
physiological  and  ethnological  problems  of  high  interest. 

A third  chapter  (Chapter  XIV)  briefly  compares  the 
conditions  of  settlement  and  of  government  which  de- 
termined the  course  of  economic  and  political  develop- 
ment in  North  and  in  South  America  respectively  and  en- 
quires how  far  the  latter  Continent  is  to  be  considered  any 
more  closely  related  to  the  former  than  it  is  to  Europe. 
Is  there,  in  fact,  such  a thing  as  that  which  the  word  Pan- 
Americanism  is  intended  to  describe,  or  does  the  expres- 
sion denote  an  aspiration  rather  than  a fact  ? 


INTRODUCTION 


xxi 


Of  the  political  history  of  these  republics  very  little 
is  said  in  this  book,  and  of  their  current  politics  nothing 
at  all.  That  is  a topic  on  which  it  would  not  be 
fitting  for  me  to  enter.  But  in  travelling  through  the 
seven  countries,  in  observing  their  physical  features  and 
the  character  of  their  people,  and  the  state  of  knowl- 
edge and  education  among  them,  as  well  as  in  reading 
accounts  of  the  kind  of  administration  which  the  Spanish 
Crown  gave  them  during  nearly  three  centuries,  I 
was  struck  by  the  influence  which  all  these  facts  must 
have  had  upon  the  free  governments  which  the  Revolu- 
tionary leaders  tried  to  set  up  when  they  broke  away 
from  the  mother  country.  The  history  of  Spanish 
America  since  1810  cannot  be  understood  or  fairly 
judged,  without  taking  these  things  into  account. 
They  have  been  the  fundamental  and  determinative 
conditions  of  political  life  in  these  countries ; and  to 
them  Chapter  XV  has  been  devoted. 

In  the  last  Chapter  (XVI)  I have  touched  upon 
several  subjects  relating  to  the  South  American  lands 
and  peoples  in  general  for  which  no  appropriate  earlier 
place  could  be  found,  and  have  indulged  in  a few  con- 
jectures as  to  the  future  both  of  the  several  states  and 
of  the  Continent  as  a whole.  These  are  not  meant  as 
predictions,  but  rather  as  suggestions  of  possibilities 
which  may  serve  to  set  others  thinking. 

Lest  some  of  the  views  presented,  especially  those  re- 
garding the  native  races  and  political  conditions  should 
be  deemed  unduly  optimistic,  let  me  try  to  meet  any 
such  criticism  by  a few  words  on  optimism  in  general. 


XXU 


INTRODUCTION 


Pessimism  is  easier  than  optimism,  as  it  is  easier  to 
destroy  than  to  construct.  There  was  an  old  dictum 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  “ Omnia  tendunt  naturaliter  in  non 
esse,”1  and  Mephistopheles  in  Goethe’s  Faust  tells  us 
that 

Alles  was  entsteht 
1st  werth  dass  es  zu  Grunde  geht.2 

If  pessimism  is  easy,  the  more  need  to  stand  on  guard 
against  it. 

The  duty  of  a traveller,  or  a historian,  or  a philoso- 
pher is,  of  course,  to  reach  and  convey  the  exact  truth, 
and  any  tendency  either  to  lighten  or  to  darken 
the  picture  is  equally  to  be  condemned.  But  where 
there  is  room  for  doubt,  and  wherever  that  which 
may  be  called  the  “temperamental  equation”  of  the 
observer  comes  in,  an  optimistic  attitude  would  seem 
to  be  the  safer,  that  is  to  say,  likely  to  be  nearer 
to  the  truth.  We  are  all  prone  to  see  faults  rather 
than  merits,  and  in  making  this  remark  I do  not 
forget  the  so-called  “log-rolling  critics,”  because  with 
them  the  question  is  of  what  the  critic  says,  not  of  what 
he  sees,  which  may  be  something  quite  different.  If 
this  maxim  holds  true,  it  is  especially  needed  when  a 
traveller  is  judging  a foreign  country,  for  the  bias  always 
present  in  us  which  favours  our  own  national  ways  and 
traits  makes  us  judge  the  faults  of  other  nations  more 
severely  than  we  do  those  with  which  we  are  familiar. 
As  this  unconscious  factor  often  tends  to  darken  the 

1 All  things  tend  naturally  towards  non-existence.  So  in  the 
original  statutes  of  Oriel  College,  Oxford  (founded  in  a.d.  1327). 

2 All  that  comes  into  being  deserves  to  perish. 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

picture  that  a traveller  draws,  it  is  safer  for  him,  if  in 
doubt,  to  throw  in  a little  light  so  as  to  secure  a just 
result.  Moreover,  we  are  disposed,  when  we  deal  with 
another  country,  to  be  unduly  impressed  by  the  defects 
we  actually  see  and  to  forget  to  ask  what  is,  after  all,  the 
really  important  question,  whether  things  are  getting 
better  or  worse.  Is  it  an  ebbing  or  a flowing  tide  that 
we  see?  Even  in  reflecting  on  the  past  of  our  own 
country,  which  we  know  better  than  we  do  that  of  other 
countries,  we  are  apt,  in  noting  the  emergence  of  new 
dangers,  to  forget  how  many  old  dangers  have  dis- 
appeared. Much  more  is  this  kind  of  error  likely  to 
affect  us  in  the  case  of  a country  whose  faults  repel  us 
more  than  do  our  own  national  faults,  and  whose  re- 
cuperative forces  we  may  overlook  or  undervalue. 

Such  considerations  as  these  have  made  me  believe 
that  the  natural  propensity  of  a West  European  or 
North  American  traveller  to  judge  Spanish  Americans 
by  his  own  standards  needs  to  be  corrected  not  only 
by  making  allowance  for  differences  of  intellect  and 
character,  but  also  by  a comprehension  of  the  history 
of  these  peoples  and  of  the  difficulties,  many  of  them 
due  to  causes  outside  their  own  control,  which  have 
encompassed  and  entangled  them  ever  since  their  an- 
cestors first  set  foot  in  the  Western  world.  Whoever 
compares  these  difficulties  as  they  stand  to-day  with 
those  of  a century  ago  will  find  grounds  not  only  for 
more  lenient  judgments  than  most  Europeans  have 
passed,  but  also  for  brighter  hopes. 

Neither  in  this  matter,  however,  nor  anywhere  in 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION 


the  chapters  which  deal  with  the  social  and  political 
conditions  of  South  America  have  I ventured  to  dog- 
matize. My  aim  has  rather  been  to  start  questions  and 
to  indicate  various  sides  from  which  South  American 
problems  may  be  approached.  The  interest  of  these 
new  countries  lies  largely  in  the  fact  that  while  some 
problems  already  familiar  to  the  Old  World,  have  here 
taken  on  new  aspects,  others  appear  here  almost  for  the 
first  time  in  history.  Some  of  them  involve  phenomena 
of  race  growth  and  race  intermixture  for  the  investiga- 
tion of  which  the  data  we  possess  are  still  insufficient. 
Others  turn  upon  the  still  unascertained  capacity  of 
European  races  for  working  and  thriving  in  tropical 
countries.  It  may  take  many  years  before  science  can 
tell  us  half  of  what  we  desire  to  know  regarding  the 
economic  possibilities  of  the  central  regions  of  the 
Continent,  for  the  development  of  which  no  labour  is 
now  available.  The  future  of  the  temperate  South  is 
more  certain,  for  all  the  material  conditions  that  make 
for  prosperity  in  North  America  and  Australia  are 
present  there  also.  These  countries  will  be  the  home 
of  rich  and  populous  nations,  and  possibly  of  great 
nations.  The  most  interesting  of  all  the  questions 
which  a journey  in  South  America  suggests  are  those 
which  concern  the  growth  of  these  young  nations. 
What  type  of  manhood  will  they  develop  ? What  place 
in  the  world  will  they  ultimately  hold  ? They  need  fear 
no  attacks  from  the  powers  of  the  Northern  Hemi- 
sphere, and  they  have  abundant  resources  within. 
Their  future  is  in  their  own  hands. 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


CHAPTER  I 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 

South  America  is  bounded  at  its  northern  end  by 
an  isthmus  and  at  its  southern  by  a strait.  They  are 
the  two  gateways  by  which  the  western  side  of  the 
Continent,  cut  off  from  the  western  and  central  por- 
tions by  a long  and  lofty  mountain  range,  can  be  ap- 
proached from  the  Atlantic.  It  was  by  crossing  the 
Isthmus  that  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa  discovered  the 
South  Sea.  It  was  by  penetrating  the  Strait  that 
Magellan,  seven  years  later,  discovered  that  this  South 
Sea  was  a vast  ocean  stretching  all  the  way  to  the 
coasts  of  Asia.  In  old  Spanish  days  all  the  commerce 
of  the  west  coast  passed  over  the  Isthmus,1  but  when 
the  days  of  steam  navigation  arrived,  that  commerce 
passed  through  Magellan’s  Strait.  Now  the  Isthmus 
itself  is  to  be  turned  into  a strait  and  will  be  a channel 
for  sea-borne  trade,  the  main  gateway  to  the  West. 

An  isthmus  and  a strait  are,  to  the  historical  geo- 
grapher and  to  the  geographical  historian,  the  most  in- 
teresting things  with  which  geographical  science  has  to 
deal.  Commerce  and  travel  and  naval  warfare  con- 
centrate themselves  at  the  spot  where  a narrow  channel 
connects  wide  seas,  and  the  strip  of  land  which  severs 
two  seas  from  one  another  interposes  a barrier  to  water- 
borne trade  and  turns  it  off  into  other  directions.  It 

1 The  trade  to  the  Philippines  crossed  the  Continent  at  Tehuantepec. 
b 1 


2 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


becomes  a point  the  control  of  which  can  stop  the 
march  of  armies,  and  it  furnishes  a central  stronghold 
whence  ships  can  go  forth  to  threaten  the  neighbouring 
coasts.  Thus  every  strait  and  every  isthmus  has  a high 
commercial  importance,  and  almost  always  a political 
importance  also,  since  lines  of  commerce  have  usually 
been,  and  are  now  more  than  ever,  potent  factors  in 
human  affairs,  while  the  command  of  a water  passage 
for  fleets,  or  that  of  a land  passage  for  armies,  may 
be  of  capital  importance  in  war. 

The  Eastern  Hemisphere  has  an  isthmus  which  has 
been  significant  for  world  commerce  and  for  world  his- 
tory almost  from  the  beginning  of  civilization.  It  is 
the  Isthmus  of  Suez.  So  the  Western  Hemisphere  has 
its  isthmus  of  supreme  importance,  — that  of  Panama. 
It  is  a link  between  continents  and  a barrier  between 
seas,  which,  though  its  history  is  far  shorter  than  is 
that  of  Suez,  yet  has  been  at  some  moments  in  the 
last  four  centuries,  and  may  be  still  more  hereafter, 
of  high  significance  for  the  movements  of  the  world. 

There  are  some  notable  points  of  similarity  between 
these  two  isthmuses.  Their  breadth  is  not  very  dif- 
ferent, — Suez  sixty  miles,  Panama  about  fifty-four. 
The  shortest  line  across  each  runs  nearly  due  north 
and  south.  The  continents  which  each  unites  are 
gigantic.  Each  lies  in  what  is,  or  was  till  quite  lately, 
a practically  uninhabited  country. 

Here,  however,  the  likeness  ends;  and  we  come  to 
points  of  contrast  that  are  more  remarkable.  The 
Isthmus  of  Suez  is  flat  as  a table  from  one  end  to  the 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


3 


other;  that  of  Panama  is  covered  with  high  and 
generally  steep  hills.  Suez  is  an  arid  waste,  where 
there  is  not  a brook  and  scarcely  even  a well,  and  by 
consequence  not  a tree,  nor  any  growing  thing  save 
a few  thin  and  thorny  shrubs.  Panama  has  a tre- 
mendous rainfall  in  places,  varying  from  one  hundred 
and  forty  inches  a year  on  the  north  side  to  sixty  on 
the  south,  and  is  covered  with  wood  so  dense  that 
roads  have  to  be  not  only  hewn  through  the  forest  but 
defended  by  incessant  cutting  against  the  efforts  of  a 
prolific  nature,  always  seeking  to  reassert  her  rights. 
Having  a keen,  dry,  desert  air,  the  whole  Suez  region 
is  a healthy  one,  where  man  need  fear  disease  onty  in 
those  few  spots  which  he  has  in  recent  years  brought 
under  irrigation.  Panama  had  for  centuries  a climate 
so  deadly  that  even  passing  travellers  feared  to  halt 
more  than  a few  hours  on  either  side  of  the  Isthmus. 
Yellow  fever,  intermittent  and  remittent  fevers,  and 
all  sorts  of  other  tropical  maladies  made  it  their 
favourite  home. 

A still  more  remarkable  contrast,  however,  between 
these  two  necks  of  land  lies  in  the  part  they  have  respec- 
tively played  in  human  affairs.  The  Isthmus  of  Panama 
must,  in  far-off  prehistoric  days,  have  been  the  highway 
along  which  those  wandering  tribes  whose  forefathers 
had  passed  in  their  canoes  from  northeastern  Asia 
along  the  Aleutian  Isles  into  Alaska  found  their  way, 
after  many  centuries,  into  the  vast  spaces  of  South 
America.  But  its  place  in  the  annals  of  mankind 
during  the  four  centuries  that  have  elapsed  since 


4 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Balboa  gazed  from  a mountain  top  rising  out  of  the 
forest  upon  the  far-off  waters  of  the  South  Sea  has  been 
small,  indeed,  compared  to  that  which  the  Isthmus 
of  Suez  has  held  from  the  beginning  of  history.  It 
echoed  to  the  tread  of  the  armies  of  Thothmes  and 
Rameses  marching  forth  on  their  invasions  of  western 
Asia.  Along  the  edge  of  it  Israel  fled  forth  before  the 
hosts  of  Pharaoh.  First  the  Assyrian  and  afterwards 
the  Persian  hosts  poured  across  it  to  conquer  Egypt; 
and  over  its  sands  Bonaparte  led  his  regiments  to 
Palestine  in  that  bold  adventure  which  was  stopped  at 
St.  Jean  d’Acre.  It  has  been  one  of  the  great  highways 
for  armies  for  forty  centuries,  as  the  canal  cut  through 
it  is  now  one  of  the  great  highways  of  commerce. 

The  turn  of  the  Isthmus  of  Panama  has  now  come, 
and  curiously  enough  it  is  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  that 
brought  that  turn,  for  it  was  the  digging  of  a ship  canal 
from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  Red  Sea,  and  the  vast 
expansion  of  Eastern  trade  which  followed,  that  led 
to  the  revival  of  the  old  designs,  mooted  as  far  back 
as  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth,  of  pierc- 
ing the  American  Isthmus.  Thus  the  comparison  of  the 
two  isthmuses  becomes  now  more  interesting  than 
ever,  for  our  generation  will  watch  to  see  whether  the 
commerce  and  politics  of  the  western  world  will  be 
affected  by  this  new  route  which  is  now  being  opened, 
as  those  of  the  Old  World  have  been  affected  by  the 
achievement  of  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps. 

So  many  books  have  been  written,  and  so  many 
more  will  be  written,  about  the  engineering  of  the 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


5 


Panama  Canal  and  about  its  commercial  possibilities, 
that  of  these  very  little  need  be  said  in  such  a sketch 
as  this.  But  as  everybody  is  already  curious,  and 
will,  two  years  hence,  be  still  more  curious  regarding 
the  region  it  traverses,  I shall  try  to  convey  some  sort 
of  notion  of  the  physical  aspects  of  the  Isthmus  and 
of  the  impressions  its  past  and  its  present  make  on 
the  traveller’s  mind.  In  taking  the  reader  with  me 
across  the  neck  of  land,  I shall  in  the  first  instance  say 
nothing  of  the  works  of  the  canal  which  I saw  in  course 
of  execution,  but  will  ask  him  to  remember  that  it  runs, 
as  does  the  Trans-Isthmian  railway,  from  north  to 
south,  the  coast  line  both  on  the  Atlantic  and  on  the 
Pacific  side  trending  in  this  region  east  and  west.1 

Approaching  in  the  steamer  from  Europe  or  New 
York  across  the  Caribbean  Sea  one  sees  low  hills  rising 
gently  from  the  shore,  fringed  writh  palms  and  dotted 
with  small  white  houses  half  hidden  among  the  trees. 
In  front,  on  an  islet  now  joined  to  the  mainland,  is  the 
town  of  Colon,  a new  town,  with  a statue  of  Christopher 
Columbus  “ protecting  ” a female  Indian  figure  of 
America,  but  no  buildings  of  interest  and  little  history, 
for  it  is  only  sixty  years  old,  built  as  the  terminal  point 
of  the  railway.  The  old  fortified  ports  where  the 
Spanish  galleons  used  to  lie  at  anchor  in  former  days, 
Nombre  de  Dios  and  Puerto  Bello,  stand  farther  to 
the  east.  Behind  the  town,  higher  hills,  covered  with 
those  thick,  light  green  woods  that  characterize  the 

1 The  reader  will  find  at  the  end  of  the  volume  a small  map  which 
may  help  him  to  understand  the  topography  of  the  region. 


6 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tropics,  cut  off  the  view  to  the  south.  No  depression 
in  the  land  is  visible.  There  is  nothing  to  suggest  that 
another  ocean  lies  beyond,  only  fifty  miles  away,  and 
that  here  the  great  backbone  which  traverses  two 
continents  for  many  thousands  of  miles  sinks  to  a 
point  a few  hundreds  of  feet  above  sea  level. 

The  traveller  on  landing  steps  into  the  railroad  car, 
and  after  running  for  three  miles  along  the  shore  of  the 
shallow  bay  of  Limon  into  which  the  Canal  is  to  issue, 
strikes  in  four  miles  more  the  valley  of  the  Chagres 
River.  Here  is  the  point  (to  be  described  later)  at 
which  the  huge  Gatun  Dam  is  being  built  across  that 
valley  to  flood  it  and  turn  it  into  a navigable  lake. 
Thence  the  line  keeps  in  the  same  general  south-south- 
east direction  on  the  east  side  of  the  Chagres  River, 
parallel  to  its  course.  The  Chagres,  a muddy  and 
rather  languid  stream,  has  in  the  dry  season  about  as 
much  water  as  the  Scottish  Tweed  and  in  the  wet  sea- 
son rather  more  than  the  Potomac  and  much  more 
than  the  Shannon.  There  are  few  stations  on  the  way, 
and  at  first  no  dwellings,  for  the  country  was  unin- 
habited till  the  work  of  canal  construction  began.  Mo- 
rasses are  crossed,  and  everywhere  there  is  on  each  side  a 
dense,  dark  forest.  So  deep  and  spongy  are  the  swamps 
that  in  places  it  has  been  found  impossible  to  fill  them 
up  or  to  lay  more  than  one  set  of  rails  upon  the  surface. 
So  dense  is  the  forest,  the  spaces  between  the  tree  trunks 
filled  by  shrubs  and  the  boughs  bound  together  by 
climbing  plants  into  a wall  of  living  green,  that  one 
cannot  see  more  than  a few  yards  into  the  thicket, 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


7 


and  can  force  a way  through  it  only  by  the  help  of  the 
machete,  — that  long,  cutlass-like  knife  which  people 
carry  in  Spanish  America.  Hardly  a trail  running 
into  the  woods  is  seen,  and  a mile  or  two  back  the  wild 
cats  and  monkeys,  and  their  terrible  enemies,  the  ana- 
condas or  boa  constrictors,  have  the  place  all  to  them- 
selves. 

After  some  twenty- three  miles  of  this  sort  of  country, 
beautiful  when  the  outer  boughs  of  the  trees  are  gay 
with  brilliant  blossoms,  and  pendulous  orchids  sway 
in  the  breeze  between  their  stems,  but  in  September 
rather  monotonous  in  color,  the  railway  crosses  and 
leaves  the  Chagres  River,  whose  valley  turns  north- 
east far  in  among  higher  hills.  The  line  continues 
to  run  southward,  rising  gently  between  slopes  from 
which  the  wood  has  been  lately  cut  away  so  that 
one  can  see  the  surrounding  landscape.  All  around 
there  is  a sort  of  tossing  sea  of  miniature  moun- 
tains — I call  them  mountains  because  of  their  steep 
slopes  and  pointed  crests, _though  few  of  them  exceed  a 
thousand  feet  in  height.  These  are  set  so  close  together 
that  hardly  a dozen  yards  of  level  ground  can  be  found 
between  the  bases  of  their  declivities,  and  are  disposed 
so  irregularly  that  they  seem  as  if  the  product  of 
scattered  outbreaks  and  uplifts  of  igneous  rock.  Their 
sides  are  clothed  and  their  tops  plumed  with  so  thick 
a growth  of  wood  that  the  eye  cannot  discover  crags 
or  cliffs,  if  any  there  be,  and  the  tops  of  all  are  practi- 
cally unapproachable,  because  no  trails  have  yet  been 
cut,  except  to  one  conspicuous  summit.  This  one 


8 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


rises  boldly  to  a height  of  about  1200  feet,  and  has 
received  the  name  of  Balboa  Hill,  because  from  it 
alone  in  this  region  — so  one  is  told  — can  both  oceans 
in  a season  of  fair  weather  be  descried.  The  gallant 
Vasco  Nunez  deserves  the  honour  of  being  thus  com- 
memorated ; but  it  is  to  be  feared  that  before  long  the 
legend  will  have  struck  root  among  those  who  dwell 
here,  and  will  be  repeated  to  those  who  pass  along  the 
canal,  that  it  was  from  this  height,  and  not  from  a peak 
in  Darien,  seventy  or  eighty  miles  farther  to  the  east, 
that  the  bold  adventurer  first  looked  out  over  the 
shining  expanse  of  the  South  Sea. 

We  are  now  more  than  halfway  to  the  Pacific  and 
may  pause  to  survey  the  landscape.  Though  there  is 
moisture  everywhere,  one  sees  no  water,  for  neither 
ocean  is  visible,  the  Chagres  is  hidden  among  the  folds 
of  the  hills,  and  the  brooks  at  the  valley  bottoms  are 
insignificant.  But  otherwise  it  is  cheerful  and  pleasant 
in  its  bright  green  and  its  varied  lines,  — a country  in 
which  a man  might  be  content  to  live,  faintly  remind- 
ing one  of  the  Trossachs  in  Scotland  by  the  number  of 
steep  little  peaks  crowded  together  and  by  the  profusion 
of  wood.  The  luxuriance  of  nature  is,  however,  far 
greater  than  in  any  temperate  clime,  and  the  trees 
have  that  feathery  lightness  which  belongs  to  the 
tropics,  their  tops  springing  like  green  bubbles  into  the 
soft  blue  air. 

Here,  at  a place  called  Culebra,  is  the  highest  part  of 
the  crossing  from  ocean  to  ocean,  110  feet  above  sea- 
level  ; and  as  it  was  here  that  the  deepest  cutting  had 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


9 


to  be  made  for  the  canal  it  is  here  that  the  head- 
quarters of  the  engineering  staff  has  been  fixed.  Of  the 
cutting  more  anon.  The  railway  follows  a devious 
course  among  the  hills,  rattling  here  and  there  through 
cuttings  in  hard  igneous  rock,  and  in  a few  miles^ 
descending  gently,  it  passes  out  into  a wide  valley, 
the  farther  end  of  which,  to  the  south,  is  open,  with 
a bold  hill  guarding  it  on  the  east  side  and  several 
more  distant  rocky  eminences  visible  far  away  against 
the  horizon.  The  hill  is  Ancon,  overlooking  Panama 
city  on  the  one  side,  and,  on  the  other,  the  bay  which 
the  canal  enters.  The  eminences  are  islands  lying 
out  in  the  Pacific.  Being  now  quite  down  on  the 
level  of  the  ocean,  we  do  not  see  its  waters  till  the  rail- 
way, passing  along  the  edge  of  a brackish  tidal  swamp, 
reaches  the  city  of  Panama,  forty-six  miles  from  Colon. 

As  the  Pacific  side  of  the  Isthmus  is  much  the 
most  picturesque  part  of  the  whole,  and  impresses 
itself  most  on  the  imagination,  the  visitor  who  de- 
sires to  enjoy  the  scenery  and  grasp  the  configuration 
of  land  and  sea,  ought  To  climb,  if  he  is  an  active 
walker,  to  the  top  of  the  hill  of  Ancon,  on  the  lower 
slopes  of  which,  rising  just  above  Panama  city,  are 
the  United  States  government  offices  and  the  villas 
of  its  officials.  Steep  everywhere,  and  in  parts  slip- 
pery also,  is  the  foot-path  that  leads  over  pastures  and 
through  thickets  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  some  six  hundred 
feet  high.  But  it  is  worth  while  to  make  the  ascent, 
for  from  the  summit  one  obtains  an  ample  prospect 
worthy  of  the  historic  greatness  of  the  spot. 


10 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


From  this  breezy  height  let  the  traveller  turn  his 
eyes  first  to  the  north,  and  look  back  over  that  maze 
of  low  forest-covered  mountains  through  which  he  has 
passed  from  Colon  and  which  form  the  watershed 
between  the  two  seas.  No  more  from  this  side  of  the 
Isthmus  than  from  the  other  does  one  discern  any 
depression  in  the  watershed,  any  break  in  the  range 
sufficient  to  indicate  that  at  this  point  there  is  an  easy 
passage  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific.  The  hollows 
through  which  both  railroad  and  canal  pass  are  hidden 
deep  in  the  folds  of  the  hills,  which  stand  so  thick 
together  that  it  is  hard  to  believe  any  waterway  could 
ever  be  carved  out  between  them  and  impossible  to  tell 
the  spot  where  the  cutting  is  being  made. 

Very  different  is  the  view  when  the  gaze  is  turned  east- 
ward along  the  far-winding  bays  and  promontories  of 
the  Gulf  of  Panama.  There  the  coast  is  for  a long  space 
flat,  and  a plain  runs  back  toward  distant  hills.  Beyond 
this  plain  other  ranges  rise  to  the  southeast,  bordering 
the  Pacific  till  they  sink  below  the  horizon  opposite  the 
Pearl  Islands.  Somewhere  among  those  ranges  is  the 
height  to  which  Balboa  climbed  and  whence  he  made 
the  great  discovery;  somewhere  along  those  shores  the 
place  where,  clad  in  armour,  he  strode  into  the  waves, 
and  with  sword  drawn,  took  possession  of  the  sea  on 
behalf  of  the  king  of  Spain.  It  is  rather  across  that 
plain  that  any  one  looking  from  this  side  might  fancy 
the  lowest  passage  from  sea  to  sea  would  be  found. 
Yet  not  there,  but  much  farther  to  the  southeast, 
far  behind  the  hills,  in  the  Gulf  of  Darien,  there  is 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


11 


a point  still  lower,  where  between  the  Atrato  River 
which  falls  into  the  Caribbean  and  the  River  San  Juan 
running  to  the  Pacific  a few  miles  of  cut  would  enable 
a ship  to  pass  from  sea  to  sea.  Now  let  the  traveller 
turn  round  and  face  to  the  west.  His  eyes  will  follow 
a long  mountain  chain  which  rises  high  and  bold  from 
the  opposite  shore  of  the  Gulf  of  Panama  and  runs  out 
southwest  until  it  too  is  lost  to  sight  beneath  the  far  hori- 
zon. In  front,  a group  of  rocky  isles  lies  basking  in  the 
sunny  sea.  Just  beneath  the  Ancon  hill,  at  its  eastern 
foot,  the  little  city  of  Panama  stands  on  its  promontory, 
a mass  of  grey,  red-roofed  houses  with  a half-demolished 
Spanish  fort  of  the  eighteenth  century  guarding  the 
shallow  roadstead,  while  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
hill,  at  the  base  of  its  steep  slopes,  is  the  mouth  of 
the  Canal. 

The  landscape  spread  out  under  this  hill  of  Ancon  is 
the  finest  in  all  the  Isthmian  region.  The  northern 
side  at  Colon,  although  pretty  with  its  abundant  ver- 
dure, is  commonplace ; but  here  there  is  a view  which 
appeals  at  once  to  the  eye  and  to  the  imagination, 
ranging  over  vast  stretches  of  land  and  sea,  rich  with 
varied  colour,  bringing  together  the  past  and  the 
future.  Over  these  smooth  ocean  plains,  which  the 
Spaniards,  accustomed  to  their  own  stormy  Atlantic, 
called  the  Peaceful  Sea,  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa 
looked  eagerly  out  as  he  planned  that  expedition  to 
Peru  which  the  jealous  cruelty  of  Pedrarias,  the  Spanish 
viceroy,  cut  short.  Over  them  the  less  worthy  but  more 
fortunate  Pizarro  sailed  to  those  far  southern  lands, 


12 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


where  he  won,  in  two  years,  an  empire  vaster  than 
that  which  in  the  Old  World  obeyed  his  sovereign, 
Charles  the  Fifth.  Backward  and  forward  across  these 
waters  came  the  fleets  that  bore  to  the  south  swarms  of 
fierce  adventurers  to  plunder  the  native  peoples,  and 
that  brought  back  the  treasures  which  supported  the 
European  wars  of  Spain  and  helped  to  work  her  ruin. 
Three  miles  off  there  can  be  just  discerned  amid  the 
trees  the  ancient  cathedral  tower  of  the  now  ruined  city 
of  old  Panama,  where  those  fleets  used  to  anchor  till  the 
English  buccaneer  Morgan  sacked  and  destroyed  the 
place  in  1679.  And  just  beneath,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  hill  from  these  traces  of  the  vanished  colonial 
empire  of  Spain,  the  long  mole  that  is  to  shield  the 
mouth  of  the  Canal  is  rising,  and  the  steamships  lying 
along  the  wharves,  and  cars  standing  beside  them  on 
the  railway  tracks,  presage  a commerce  vaster  than  ever 
was  seen  in  the  great  days  of  Spain,  for  they  speak 
of  the  passage  of  men  from  all  the  nations  along  the  new 
waterway  through  these  forests  and  out  over  this  sea 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  Here,  as  at  the  Straits  of 
Gibraltar  and  on  the  Bosphorus,  nature  and  history 
have  joined  to  give  delight  for  the  eyes,  and  to  the 
mind  musings  on  the  past  and  dim  forecasting  visions 
of  the  future. 

Save  for  these  few  points  where  human  dwellings  are 
seen,  — the  little  Spanish  city  below  and  the  offices 
and  warehouses  that  mark  the  beginnings  of  the  new 
commercial  port  and  some  houses  on  the  islets  in  the 
bay,  where  the  inhabitants  of  Panama  seek  in  summer 


13 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 

a cooler  air,  — it  is  a lonely  landscape,  with  scarcely 
a sign  of  life  on  land,  and  as  yet  few  ships  flecking 
the  water.  The  region  has  always  been  thinly  peopled 
and  its  tribes  never  reached  the  semi-civilization  of  the 
Maya  peoples  of  Yucatan,  Honduras,  and  Guatemala 
to  the  north  of  them,  nor  of  the  Chibchas  of  Bogota  to 
the  south.  There  are,  anyhow,  no  traces  of  prehistoric 
progress  here,  though  some  have  been  found  in  Costa 
Rica.  The  aborigines  were  not  numerous  in  this  region, 
and,  after  the  Spaniards  came,  were  quickly  reduced 
by  the  attacks  which  gold-seeking  adventurers  made 
upon  them.  Thus  one  hears  of  but  few  now,  except  at 
one  place,  called  San  Bias,  on  the  shore  of  the  Caribbean 
Sea,  some  forty  miles  east  of  Colon.  There  an  Indian 
tribe  has  kept  itself  quite  apart  from  the  white  intru- 
ders, having  maintained  a practical  independence  both 
of  Spanish  viceroys  and  republican  presidents  of  Colom- 
bia. These  Indians  are  short,  strong  men,  good  sailors 
and  fine  fighters,  men  of  the  same  stock  that  repulsed 
the  first  settlers  whom  Columbus  planted  near  by  on  his 
second  voyage,  and  so  jealous  of  their  freedom  and  their 
own  ways  that  they  will  not  suffer  a white  stranger  to 
spend  the  night  in  one  of  their  villages.  They  are  re- 
ported to  be  still  heathens,  having  their  own  medicine 
men,  the  efficiency  of  whom  is  secured  by  a rule  which 
terminates  the  professional  career  together  with  the  life 
of  a practitioner  who  has  lost  to  death  seven  patients 
in  succession.  These  Indians  come  to  Colon  in  their 
canoes  to  trade,  and  show  themselves  passably  friendly 
to  the  Americans  there,  though  less  effusively  so  than 


14 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


their  ancestors  were  to  the  English  in  those  far-away 
days  when  they  guided  English  buccaneers  across  the 
Isthmus  to  pounce  upon  their  Spanish  enemies  at 
Panama.  When  in  1698  the  Scottish  colonists  arrived 
on  their  ill-starred  expedition  to  found  a colony  at 
Darien,  the  San  Bias  men  welcomed  them  with  open 
arms  and  shewed  their  good  feeling  by  frequently  com- 
ing on  board  and  drinking  a great  deal  of  liquor. 
These  kindly  dispositions  lasted  down  till  our  own 
time,  for  a tale  goes  that  in  one  of  their  struggles 
against  the  Colombians  they  declared  themselves 
subjects  of  Queen  Victoria.  The  Republic  of  Panama, 
having  plenty  of  troubles  of  its  own,  wisely  leaves  them 
alone. 

As  there  are  few  Indians  now  in  the  narrowest  part 
of  the  Isthmus,  so  also  there  are  few  white  people. 
The  Spaniards  never  tried  to  settle  the  country,  though 
they  built  towns  here  and  there  on  the  coast  for  trade. 
There  was  neither  gold  nor  silver  to  attract  adventurers. 
The  land  was  covered  with  jungle,  and  there  was  a lack 
of  native  labourers  to  be  enslaved  and  set  to  clear 
and  till  it.  The  jealous  policy  of  the  home  govern- 
ment excluded  the  subjects  of  all  other  powers,  so  most 
of  this  region  remained  a wilderness,  unimproved,  and 
parts  of  it  unexplored.  A paved  road  was  constructed 
across  the  Isthmus  from  old  Panama,  the  town  built  by 
Pedrarias  when  he  crossed  to  the  Pacific  side  in  1520, 
to  Nombre  de  Dios,  which  became  the  chief  port  on  the 
Atlantic  side;  and  along  this  road  pack  mule  trains 
carried  the  silver  that  had  come  up  from  Peru  to  be 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


15 


shipped  for  Cadiz  or  Vigo  in  those  great  galleons  for 
which  the  English  seamen  used  to  he  in  wait.  On 
the  Atlantic  coast  there  was  held  once  a year  a great 
fair  which  lasted  six  wreeks,  and  to  which  trading 
folk  came  by  sea  from  far  and  wide.  Nearly  all  the 
manufactured  goods  wdiich  were  consumed  in  Peru  and 
all  down  the  west  coast  were  sold  and  bought  here. 
Little  else  broke  the  monotonous  annals  of  these  remote 
provinces  except  the  exploits  of  the  English  sea-rovers 
who  carried  on  the  war  of  Protestantism  against  Spain 
for  the  benefit  of  their  own  pockets.  Sir  Francis  Drake, 
the  least  sordid  and  most  gallant  among  them,  began 
his  exploits  by  establishing  himself  in  a creek  on  the  At- 
lantic side  of  the  Isthmus,  and  thence  took  Nombre  de 
Dios  with  a ridiculously  small  force,  and  laid  ambushes 
for  the  silver-carrying  mule  trains  that  crossed  from  Pa- 
nama, raiding  at  intervals  such  Spanish  ports  as  his  small 
force  enabled  him  to  capture.  In  one  early  expedition, 
he  climbed  a tree  on  a hilltop,  and  seeing  the  Pacific 
from  it,  fell  on  his  knees  and  prayed  God  to  give  him 
fife  till  he  could  sail  upon  that  sea  in  an  English  ship 
— a prayer  which  was  amply  fulfilled  when  he  issued 
from  the  Straits  of  Magellan  and  ravaged  the  coasts 
of  Peru  in  1578.  In  the  last  of  all  his  cruises  it  was 
in  his  ship  off  Puerto  Bello  that  he  died  in  1596. 
Eighty  years  later,  Morgan,  the  famous  English  buc- 
caneer, gathered  a large  force  of  adventurers  and  sea- 
faring ruffians,  crossed  the  Isthmus  by  sailing  in  small 
boats  up  the  Chagres  and  thence  after  a short  land 
journey  falling  upon  Panama,  which  he  took  and  pih 


16 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


laged,  bringing  back  his  booty  to  the  Caribbean  Sea. 
The  city  was  burned,  whether  by  him  or  by  the  Span- 
iards remains  in  doubt,  and  thereafter  it  lay  deserted. 

Thirty  years  after  Morgan’s  raid  the  commercial 
possibilities  of  the  Isthmus  fascinated  a Scotsman  who 
had  more  than  the  usual  fervour  and  less  than  the 
usual  caution  of  his  nation.  William  Paterson,  the 
founder  of  the  Bank  of  England,  led  a colony,  chiefly 
composed  of  Scottish  people,  and  well  supplied  with 
Scottish  ministers,  to  a place  near  Acla  in  the  Gulf  of 
Darien,  on  the  Atlantic  side  of  the  Isthmus,  one  hundred 
miles  southeast  of  Colon,  meaning  to  make  it  a great 
centre  of  trade  over  both  oceans.  They  went  out, 
however,  imperfectly  equipped  and  ignorant  of  cli- 
matic conditions.  Many  perished  from  disease ; King 
William  III  gave  them  no  support  ; the  Spaniards  at 
last  attacked  and  compelled  the  surrender  of  the  few  who 
remained.  Thereafter  nobody  disturbed  the  subjects  of 
the  Catholic  king.  New  Panama,  planted  in  a better 
site  where  the  roadstead  is  a little  deeper,  although  too 
shallow  for  the  ocean  liners  of  our  own  day,  continued  to 
enjoy  a certain  prosperity  as  the  gateway  to  all  western 
South  America,  for  there  was  and  could  be  no  land 
transit  through  the  trackless  forests  and  rugged  moun- 
tains that  lie  along  the  coast  between  the  Isthmus  and 
the  Equator.  But  the  decline  and  decay  of  the  colonial 
empire  of  Spain  under  the  most  ill-conceived  and  ill- 
administered  scheme  of  government  that  selfishness  and 
stupidity  ever  combined  to  devise,  steadily  reduced  the 
importance  of  the  city.  Nothing  was  done  to  develop 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


1? 


the  country,  which  remained,  outside  Panama  and  a 
few  other  ports,  an  unprofitable  solitude.  Neither  did 
the  extinction  of  the  rule  of  Spain,  which  came  quietly 
here  because  the  local  governor  did  not  resist  it, 
make  any  difference.  Occupied  with  domestic  broils, 
the  new  republic,  first  called  New  Granada  and  now 
Colombia,  had  not  the  capital  nor  the  intelligence  nor 
the  energy  to  improve  the  country  or  develop  the  com- 
mercial possibilities  of  the  Isthmus.  This  was  a task 
reserved  for  children  of  the  race  which  had  produced 
Drake  and  Morgan. 

Thus  we  come  down  to  the  events  which  have  given 
Panama  its  present  importance.  In  1846  Mexico  was 
forced  to  cede  to  the  United  States,  as  the  price  of 
peace,  the  territories  which  now  constitute  the  States  of 
California,  Nevada,  Arizona,  and  New  Mexico.  Soon 
afterwards  gold  was  discovered  in  California,  and  a 
great  inrush  of  settlers  followed.  There  was  urgent 
need  for  some  shorter  and  safer  route  to  San  Francisco 
than  the  voyage  round  Cape  Horn  or  the  waggon  trail 
over  plains  and  mountains  from  the  Missouri.  Three 
enterprising  Americans  obtained  in  1848  a concession 
of  the  right  to  build  a railway  across  the  Isthmus.  The 
line  was  opened  in  1855,  and  had,  till  taken  over  by  the 
United  States  government,  paid  higher  dividends  con- 
tinuously (an  average  down  to  1895  of  about  15  per 
cent  per  annum)  than  any  other  line  in  the  world. 
Being  exposed  to  no  competition,  it  could  charge 
what  fares  it  pleased.  A better  service  of  passenger 
steamers  began  to  run  from  Panama  southward  as 


18 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


well  as  northward;  and  thenceforward,  despite  its 
deadly  climate,  the  Isthmus  became  a world  highway. 
Though  the  subsequent  opening  of  railroads  across 
the  North  American  continent  reduced  the  passenger 
traffic  from  the  eastern  United  States  to  California  via 
Panama,  the  goods  or  freight  traffic  continued ; and  as 
trade  to  western  South  America  increased,  so  the  old  idea 
of  constructing  an  interoceanic  canal  took  more  definite 
shape  and  led  to  the  propounding  of  scheme  after 
scheme.  Finally,  in  1878,  the  success  which  Ferdinand 
de  Lesseps  had  achieved  at  Suez  encouraged  him  to 
form  a company  in  France  to  make  a sea-level  water- 
way through  the  Isthmus.  This  company,  formed 
without  sufficient  preliminary  investigation  of  the  con- 
ditions and  the  cost,  collapsed  in  1889,  having  ex- 
hausted its  funds.  A second  one,  formed  in  1894  to 
resume  and  complete  the  enterprise,  failed  in  its  turn, 
after  spending  many  millions,  and  in  1904  transferred 
all  its  rights  and  interests,  together  with  its  plans  and 
its  machinery,  to  the  United  States  government,  who, 
after  about  two  years  usefully  spent  in  examining 
the  problem  they  had  to  face,  began  in  1907  that 
effective  work  of  digging  and  lock-building  which  they 
expect  to  complete  in  1913.  They  had  for  some  time 
been  trying  to  obtain  a grant  from  the  republic  of  Co- 
lombia of  the  strip  of  land  required  for  the  excavation  of 
the  Canal,  but  could  not  secure  terms  which  they  thought 
reasonable.  Then,  in  1903,  a revolt  took  place  at  Pan- 
ama against  the  authority  of  Colombia,  and  the  new 
republic  of  Panama,  which  forthwith  emerged,  gave  to 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


19 


the  United  States  a perpetual  lease  of  a strip  of  ten 
miles  wide,  being  the  space  through  which  the  purposed 
canal  was  to  run.  This  strip  — now  called  the  Canal 
Zone  — is  forty-five  miles  long,  with  an  area  of  about 
448  square  miles.  The  United  States  Government  is 
practically  supreme  in  it,  — though  it  has  been  held 
not  to  be  a part  of  the  United  States  for  the  purposes  of 
the  Constitution,  — and  rules  it  by  a Commission  under 
the  War  Department,  being  also  owner  of  more  than 
two-thirds  of  its  surface.  In  return  for  the  lease  it  has 
paid  a large  sum  to  the  little  republic  and  guaranteed 
its  independence.  With  the  strip  it  has  also  acquired 
four  small  islands,  deemed  valuable  strategically,  which 
lie  a little  way  off  the  shore  opposite  the  Pacific  end  of 
the  Canal.  They  are  now  to  be  fortified  to  protect  the 
approach.  The  colonial  city,  with  its  picturesque  fort 
looking  out  over  the  sea,  its  pretty  little  plazas  planted 
with  trees,  its  winding  old-fashioned  streets  and  big 
dark  churches,  stands  within  the  Canal  Zone,  but  is 
administered  by  its  own  government,  being  the  capital 
of  this  smallest  of  all  the  South  American  republics. 
The  poorer  classes  occupy  themselves  with  fishing  and 
sitting  in  the  shade,  the  upper  classes  with  politics. 
There  is  hardly  any  cultivated  land  near,  but  it  is 
hoped  that  on  the  high  undulating  ground  some  miles 
to  the  west  the  cultivation  of  vegetables  and  fruits  and 
whatever  else  passing  vessels  may  need  will  presently 
be  established. 

Of  the  Canal  itself  a few  words  must  now  be  said, 
just  enough  to  convey  some  preliminary  general  notion 


20 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  it  to  those  who  two  years  hence,  when  the  time  for 
its  formal  opening  arrives,  will  be  deluged  with  details. 

It  will  be  fifty  miles  in  length,  from  deep  water  to 
deep  water,  though  only  forty  from  tide-end  to  tide-end. 
The  minimum  bottom  width  will  be  three  hundred  feet, 
the  minimum  depth  forty-one  feet,  the  breadth  and 
depth  being,  however,  for  the  larger  part  of  its  length, 
greater  than  these  figures.  Its  highest  point  above  sea- 
level  will  be  eighty-five  feet  at  the  surface  of  the  water 
and  forty  feet  at  the  bottom,  the  depth  at  this  point 
being  forty-five  feet ; i.e.  it  will  be  cut  down  through 
the  dividing  ridge  of  the  Continent  to  a point  forty 
feet  above  the  two  oceans. 

The  simplest  way  to  realize  its  character  is  to  con- 
sider it  as  consisting  of  four  sections  which  I will  call 
(a)  the  Atlantic  Level,  (6)  the  Lake,  (c)  the  Cutting, 
and  ( d ) the  Pacific  section  (in  two  levels  separated  by 
a lock).  The  Atlantic  Level  is  a straight  channel, 
unbroken  by  locks,  of  eight  miles,  from  deep  water 
at  the  mouth  of  the  shallow  Bay  of  Limon,  a little 
west  of  Colon,  to  Gatun,  where  it  reaches  the  valley 
of  the  Chagres  River.  Now  the  Chagres  River  had 
always  been  reckoned  as  one  of  the  chief  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  making  a canal.  It  occupied  the  bottom 
of  that  natural  depression  along  which  all  surveyors 
had  long  ago  perceived  that  any  canal  must  run.  But 
the  difficulty  of  widening  and  deepening  the  river 
channel  till  it  should  become  a useable  canal,  was  a 
formidable  one,  because  in  the  wet  season  the  river 
swells  to  an  unmanageable  size  under  the  tropical  rains, 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


21 


sometimes  rising  over  forty  feet  in  twenty-four  hours. 
This  difficulty  was  at  last  met  and  the  stream  in- 
geniously utilized  by  erecting  right  across  the  course 
of  the  Chagres  a stupendous  dam  at  Gatun,  which 
by  impounding  the  water  of  the  river  turns  its  valley 
into  a lake.  This  lake  will  have  along  the  central 
channel  a depth  of  from  eighty-five  to  forty-five  feet  of 
water,  sufficient  for  the  largest  ship.  At  the  Gatun 
dam  there  are  three  locks,  built  of  concrete,  with  a total 
rise  of  eighty-five  feet,  by  which  vessels  will  be  lifted 
up  into  the  lake.  The  lake  will  fill  not  only  the  valley 
of  the  Chagres  itself,  but  the  bottom  of  its  tributary 
valleys  to  the  east  and  west,  so  that  it  will  cover  164 
square  miles  in  all,  and  will  be  dotted  by  many  islands. 
The  central  and  deepest  line  of  this  artificial  piece  of 
water,  nearly  twenty-four  miles  long,  is  the  second  of 
our  four  canal  sections,  and  will  be  the  prettiest,  for 
the  banks  are  richly  wooded.  At  the  point  called  Bas 
Obispo,  where  the  Chagres  valley,  which  has  been 
running  south-southeast  towards  the  Pacific  turns 
away  to  the  northeast  among  the  hills,  the  line  of  the 
canal  leaves  the  Gatun  river-lake,  and  we  enter  the  third 
section,  which  I have  called  the  Cutting.  Here  hills  are 
encountered,  so  it  became  necessary,  in  order  to  avoid 
the  making  of  more  locks,  to  cut  deep  into  the  central 
line  of  the  continent,  with  its  ridge  of  rock  which  con- 
nects the  Cordilleras  of  the  southern  continent  with  the 
Sierras  of  the  northern.  After  five  miles  of  compara- 
tively shallow  cutting  southward  from  the  Lake,  a tall 
and  steep  eminence,  Gold  Hill,  the  continental  water- 


22 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


shed,  its  top  665  feet  high,  bars  the  way.  Through  it 
there  has  been  carved  out  a mighty  gash,  the  “ Culebra 
Cut,”  of  which  more  anon.  A little  further  south,  eight 
miles  from  the  Lake,  the  ground  begins  to  fall  rapidly 
towards  the  other  sea,  and  we  reach  the  fourth  or 
Pacific  section  at  a point  called  Pedro  Miguel.  Here 
is  a lock  by  which  the  Canal  is  lowered  thirty  feet  to 
another  but  much  smaller  artificial  lake,  formed  by  a 
long  dam  built  across  the  valley  at  a spot  called  Mira- 
flores,  where  we  find  two  more  locks,  by  which  vessels 
will  be  lowered  fifty-five  feet  to  the  level  of  the 
Pacific.  Thence  the  Canal  runs  straight  out  into  the 
ocean,  here  so  shallow  that  a deep-water  channel  has 
been  dredged  out  for  some  miles,  and  a great  dyke  or 
mole  erected  along  its  eastern  side  to  keep  the  south- 
erly current  from  silting  up  the  harbour.  From  Pedro 
Miguel  to  Miraflores  it  is  nearly  two  miles,  and  from 
the  locks  at  the  latter  to  the  Pacific  eight  miles,  so  the 
length  of  this  fourth  Pacific  section,  which,  unlike  the 
Atlantic  section,  is  on  two  different  levels  divided  by 
the  Miraflores  dam  and  locks,  is  ten  miles.  In  it  there 
has  been  comparatively  little  land  excavation,  because 
the  ground  is  flat,  though  a great  deal  of  dredging, 
both  to  carry  a sea  channel  out  through  the  shallow 
bay  into  the  open  Pacific,  and  also  to  provide  space  for 
vessels  to  lie  and  load  or  discharge  without  blocking 
the  traffic. 

Thus  the  voyager  of  the  future,  in  the  ten  or  twelve 
hours  of  his  passage  from  ocean  to  ocean,  will  have 
much  variety.  The  level  light  of  the  fiery  tropic  dawn 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


23 


will  fall  on  the  houses  of  Colon  as  he  approaches  it  in 
the  morning,  when  vessels  usually  arrive.  When  his 
ship  has  mounted  the  majestic  staircase  of  the  three 
Gatun  locks  from  the  Atlantic  level,  he  will  glide 
slowly  and  softly  along  the  waters  of  a broad  lake  which 
gradually  narrows  toward  its  head,  a lake  enclosed  by 
rich  forests  of  that  velvety  softness  one  sees  in  the 
tropics,  with  vistas  of  forest-girt  islets  stretching  far 
off  to  right  and  left  among  the  hills,  a welcome  change 
from  the  restless  Caribbean  Sea  which  he  has  left. 
Then  the  mountains  will  close  in  upon  him,  steep 
slopes  of  grass  or  brushwood  rising  two  hundred  feet 
above  him  as  he  passes  through  the  great  Cut.  From 
the  level  of  the  Miguel  lock  he  will  look  southward 
down  the  broad  vale  that  opens  on  the  ocean  flooded 
with  the  light  of  the  declining  sun,  and  see  the 
rocky  islets  rising,  between  which  in  the  twilight 
his  course  will  he  out  into  the  vast  Pacific.  At  Suez 
the  passage  from  sea  to  sea  is  through  a dreary  and 
monotonous  waste  of  shifting  sand  and  barren  clay. 
Here  one  is  for  a few  hours  in  the  centre  of  a verdant 
continent,  floating  on  smooth  waters,  shut  off  from 
sight  of  the  ocean  behind  and  the  ocean  before,  a 
short  sweet  present  of  tranquillity  between  a stormy 
past  and  a stormy  future. 

In  these  forty  miles  of  canal  (or  fifty  if  we  reckon 
from  deep  water  to  deep  water)  the  two  most  remark- 
able pieces  of  engineering  work  are  the  gigantic  dam 
(with  its  locks)  at  Gatun  and  the  gigantic  cutting  at 
Culebra,  each  the  hugest  of  its  kind  that  the  world  has 


24 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


to  shew.  The  dam  is  nearly  a mile  and  a half  long; 
its  base  nearly  half  a mile  thick,  and  it  is  400  feet  wide 
at  the  water  line  of  the  lake  which  it  will  support.  Each 
of  the  three  locks  is  double,  so  that  one  of  the  pair  can 
be  used  by  vessels  passing  from  north  to  south,  the 
other  by  those  passing  from  south  to  north.  Each  has 
a useable  length  of  1000  feet,  a useable  width  of  110 
feet.  They  are  big  enough  in  length,  width,  and  depth 
for  the  largest  vessels  that  were  afloat  in  1911.  He 
who  stands  inside  one  of  them  seems,  when  he  looks 
up,  to  be  at  the  bottom  of  a rocky  glen,  “a  canyon 
of  cement.”  Nothing  less  than  an  earthquake  will 
affect  them,  and  though  earthquakes  have  been  de- 
structive in  Costa  Rica,  two  hundred  miles  away,  there 
is  no  record  of  any  serious  one  here.  The  locks  will  be 
worked,  and  vessels  will  be  towed  through  them,  by 
electric  power,  which  is  to  be  generated  by  the  fall  of 
the  Chagres  River  over  the  spillway  which  carries  its 
water  from  the  lake  to  the  Atlantic. 

The  great  Culebra  Cut  is  interesting  not  only  to  the 
engineer,  but  also  to  the  geologist,  as  being  what  he  calls 
a Section.  It  is  the  deepest  open  cutting  anywhere  in 
the  world,  and  shows  curious  phenomena  in  the  injection 
of  igneous  rocks,  apparently  very  recent,  among  the  loose 
sedimentary  beds,  chiefly  clays  and  soft  sandstones  of 
the  latest  tertiary  epoch.  A troublesome  result,  partly 
of  this  intermixture,  and  partly  of  the  friability  and 
instability  not  only  of  the  sedimentary  strata  but  also  of 
some  of  the  volcanic  rocks,  has  been  noted  in  the  con- 
stant slips  and  slides  of  rock  and  earth  down  the  sides 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


25 


of  the  cutting  into  the  bed  of  the  canal  that  is  to  be. 
This  source  of  expense  and  delay  was  always  foreseen 
by  those  who  knew  the  character  of  the  soil  and  the 
power  of  torrential  tropical  rains,  and  was  long  dwelt 
upon  as  a fatal  objection  to  a sea-level  canal.  It  has 
caused  even  more  delay  and  more  expenditure  than  was 
expected.  But  it  has  now  been  overcome,  though  to 
avert  the  risk  of  future  damage  to  the  work  when  com- 
pleted the  engineers  have  been  obliged  to  give  a much 
lower  slope  to  the  sides  of  the  cutting  than  was  originally 
contemplated,  so  that  the  width  of  the  cutting  at  the 
top  is  also  greater  than  had  been  planned,  and  the 
quantity  of  material  excavated  has  been  correspond- 
ingly larger.1  In  order  to  lessen  further  washing  down, 
the  slopes  will  be  sown  with  creeping  grasses  and  other 
plants  calculated  to  hold  the  surface  soil. 

The  interior  of  the  Culebra  Cut  presented,  during 
the  period  of  excavation,  a striking  sight.  Within  the 
nine  miles  of  the  whole  cutting,  two  hundred  miles  of 
railroad  track  had  been  laid  down  side  by  side,  some  on 
the  lowest  level  on  terraces  along  which  the  excavat- 
ing shovels  were  at  work.  Within  the  deepest  part  of 
the  cutting,  whose  length  is  less  than  a mile,  many 
hundreds  of  railroad  construction  cars  and  many 
thousands  of  men  were  at  work,  some  busy  in  setting 
dynamite  charges  for  blasting,  some  clearing  away  the 

1 The  highest  point  of  excavation  at  Gold  Hill  is  534  feet  above 
sea  level  and  the  highest  elevation  of  the  original  surface  of  the 
ground  along  the  centre  line  of  the  Canal  was  312  feet  above  sea 
level.  The  vertical  depth  of  the  cut  on  the  centre  line  is  thus  272 
feet,  the  bottom  of  the  cut  being  40  feet  above  sea  level. 


26 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


rubbish  scattered  round  by  an  explosion,  some  work- 
ing the  huge  moving  shovels  which  were  digging  into 
the  softer  parts  of  the  hill  or  were  removing  the  mate- 
rial loosened  by  explosions,  the  rest  working  the  trains 
of  cars  that  were  perpetually  being  made  up  and  run 
out  of  the  cutting  at  each  end  to  dump  the  excavated 
material  wherever  it  was  needed  somewhere  along  the 
line  of  the  Canal.  Every  here  and  there  one  saw  little 
puffs  of  steam,  some  from  the  locomotives,  some  where 
the  compressed  air  by  which  power  was  applied  to  the 
shovels  was  escaping  from  the  pipes,  and  condensing 
the  vapour-saturated  atmosphere. 

There  is  something  in  the  magnitude  and  the  meth- 
ods of  this  enterprise  which  a poet  might  take  as  his 
theme.  Never  before  on  our  planet  have  so  much 
labour,  so  much  scientific  knowledge,  and  so  much 
executive  skill  been  concentrated  on  a work  designed 
to  bring  the  nations  nearer  to  one  another  and  serve 
the  interests  of  all  mankind. 

Yet  a still  more  interesting  sight  is  that  which  meets 
the  visitor  when,  emerging  from  the  cutting,  he  crosses 
to  where,  behind  the  western  hill,  are  the  quarters  of 
the  workers,1  with  the  cottages  of  the  chief  engineer 
and  his  principal  assistants  on  the  top.  The  chief  en- 
gineer, Colonel  Goethals,  is  the  head  not  only  of  the 
whole  scheme  of  construction  but  of  the  whole  ad- 


1 The  unskilled  labourers  employed  are  mostly  West  Indian  ne- 
groes from  Jamaica  and  Barbadoes,  with  some  Spaniards,  but  no 
Chinese.  The  skilled  men  are  from  the  United  States.  Many  Chi- 
nese were  here  in  the  French  days  and  died  in  great  numbers. 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


27 


ministration,  and  his  energy,  judgment,  and  power  of 
swift  decision  are  recognized  to  have  been  a prime  factor 
in  the  progress  of  the  work  and  the  excellence  of  the 
administrative  details.  The  houses,  erected  by  the 
United  States  government,  are  each  of  them  surrounded 
on  every  floor  by  a fine  wire  netting  which,  while  freely 
admitting  the  air,  excludes  winged  insects.  All  the 
hospitals  have  been  netted  so  carefully  that  no  insect 
can  enter  to  carry  out  infection  from  a patient.  Every 
path  and  every  yard  is  scrupulously  clean  and  neat. 
Not  a puddle  of  water  is  left  where  mosquitoes  can 
breed,  for  every  slope  and  bottom  has  been  carefully 
drained.  Even  on  the  grass  slopes  that  surround  the 
villas  at  Ancon  there  are  little  tile  drains  laid  to  carry 
off  the  rain.  With  the  well-kept  lawns  and  the  gay 
flower-beds,  the  place  has  the  air  of  a model  village. 
And  one  sees  the  same  in  the  other  quarters  of  the 
employes  all  along  the  canal  line,  at  Gatun,  at  Mira- 
flores,  at  Ancon,  where  is  the  great  hospital  and  where 
have  been  set  up  the  offices  of  the  civil  government 
which  does  everything  for  its  employes,  both  white  and 
coloured.  Nowhere  perhaps  in  the  world  are  work- 
people so  well  cared  for,  and  such  ample  and  almost 
luxurious  provision  made  for  comfort  and  amusement 
as  well  as  for  health  by  the  benevolent  autocracy 
which  presides  over  everything.  Its  success  in  es- 
caping all  charges  of  partiality  or  corruption,  as  well 
as  in  producing  efficiency  in  the  work  and  content- 
ment among  the  workers,  has  indeed  been  such  as  to 
make  some  persons  draw  from  it  an  argument  in  favour 


28 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  State  control  of  all  great  enterprises.  To  the 
unbiassed  observer  it  is  rather  an  instance  of  the 
efficiency  obtainable  by  vesting  full  administrative 
control  in  men  whose  uprightness  and  capacity  have 
already  been  proved  beyond  question,  who  have  not 
risen  by  political  methods,  and  who  have  nothing  to 
gain  by  any  misuse  of  their  powers.  So  far  as  any 
political  moral  can  be  drawn  from  the  case,  that  moral 
recommends  not  democratic  collectivism  but  military 
autocracy. 

In  these  wire  nettings  and  drainage  arrangements 
and  hospital  precautions,  to  which  I have  referred, 
more  than  in  anything  else  is  to  be  found  the  rea- 
son why,  after  the  French  effort  to  build  the  canal  had 
twice  failed,  the  present  enterprise  is  succeeding.  The 
French  engineers  had  shown  great  skill  and  were  doing 
their  work  well.  No  one  admits  their  merits  more 
fully  than  do,  with  the  generous  candour  that  belongs 
to  true  soldiers  and  true  men  of  science,  the  American 
engineers  who  have  come  after  them.  But  they  had  no 
means  of  fighting  the  yellow  fever  and  the  malaria  that 
were  frustrating  all  their  skill  and  exhausting  all  their 
resources.  The  discovery,  made  while  the  United  States 
troops  were  occupying  Cuba  after  the  war  of  1898, 
that  yellow  fever  is  due  to  the  bite  of  the  Stegomyia 
carrying  infection  from  a patient  to  a healthy  per- 
son, and  that  intermittent  fevers  are  due  to  the  bite 
of  the  Anopheles,  similarly  bearing  poison  from  the 
sick  to  the  sound,  made  it  possible  to  enter  on  a cam- 
paign for  the  prevention  of  these  diseases  among  the 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


29 


workers  on  the  Isthmus.  This  was  done  before  ex- 
cavation began,  and  done  so  efficiently  that  the 
Isthmus  is  now  as  healthy  as  any  part  of  the  United 
States.  No  case  of  yellow  fever  has  occurred  since 
1905.  The  mortality  is  no  higher  than  in  the  United 
States  army  generally.  In  1910  the  death  rate  among 
50,802  employes  of  both  colours  in  the  Canal  Zone  was 
10.98  per  thousand,  in  1911,  among  48,876,  it  was 
11.02,  — an  extraordinarily  low  rate  when  compared 
with  the  average  of  European  and  North  American 
cities.  Among  the  American  white  employes  and  their 
families  the  rate  was  only  6.0 1.1  The  white  employes 
and  their  families  are  healthy  and  fresh-looking,  with 
none  of  that  sickly  brownish -yellow  hue  which  usually 
marks  the  inhabitants  of  malarial  districts.  And  I can 
confirm  what  many  other  visitors  have  told  me,  that  one 
may  be  for  days  and  nights  on  the  Isthmus  and  neither 
see  nor  hear  nor  feel  a mosquito.  To  have  made  one 
of  the  pest-houses  of  the  world,  a place  with  a reputa- 
tion like  that  of  the  Pontine  Marshes,  or  Poti  on  the 
Black  Sea,  or  Sierra  Leone  itself,  as  healthy  as  Boston 
or  London  is  an  achievement  of  which  the  American 
medical  staff,  and  their  country  for  them,  may  well  be 
proud ; and  the  name  of  Colonel  Gorgas,  the  head  of 
that  medical  staff  to  whose  unwearied  zeal  and  care 
this  achievement  is  largely  due,  deserves  to  stand  on 

1 Among  the  white  population  of  the  Zone,  excluding  the  cities  of 
Panama  and  Colon,  the  rate  was  higher,  viz.  16.47  for  1910  and 
15.32  for  1911,  the  part  of  the  population  not  under  official  control 
being  less  careful  to  observe  health  rules. 


30 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  roll  of  fame  beside  that  of  Colonel  Goethals,  the 
chief  engineer  and  Chairman  of  the  Commission,  who 
has  directed,  and  is  bringing  to  its  successful  issue,  this 
whole  great  enterprise. 

The  sanitation  of  the  Canal  Zone,  following  that  of 
Havana,  has  done  more  than  make  possible  the  piercing 
of  the  Isthmus.  It  has  opened  up  possibilities  for  the 
settlement  by  Europeans  of,  and  for  the  maintenance  of 
permanent  European  population  in,  many  tropical  dis- 
tricts hitherto  deemed  habitable  by  their  natives  only. 
To  the  effect  of  such  an  example  one  can  hardly  set 
bounds. 

In  no  previous  age  could  an  enterprise  so  vast  as  this 
have  been  carried  through;  that  is  to  say,  it  would 
have  required  a time  so  long  and  an  expenditure  so 
prodigious  that  no  rational  government  would  have  at- 
tempted it.  Pharaoh  Necho  may  have,  as  Herodotus 
relates,  dug  a canal  across  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  by  the 
labour  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  his  subjects  accus- 
tomed to  implict  obedience,  but  his  ditch  was  prob- 
ably a small  and  shallow  one,  and  it  was  through  a 
dead  level  of  sand  and  clay  that  it  was  dug.  Here 
there  was  a mountain  to  pierce  and  a torrent  to  bridle, 
and  the  locks  had  to  provide  for  vessels  a thousand 
feet  long.  Nothing  but  the  new  forces  which  scientific 
discovery  has  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  modern 
engineer  — steam,  electricity,  explosives  of  high  power, 
machinery  capable  of  raising  and  setting  in  their  place 
one  above  another  huge  masses  of  cement  — would 
have  made  the  work  possible.  Yet  even  that  was 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


31 


not  enough.  The  French  company  possessed  such 
appliances,  and  though  their  estimates  of  cost  turned 
out  to  be  based  on  totally  inadequate  data,  the  com- 
petence and  energy  of  their  engineers  have  never  been 
questioned.  And  the  French  company  failed  hope- 
lessly ; and  failed  not  merely  because  the  work  turned 
out  heavier,  and  the  loose  strata  giving  way  under  the 
downpours  of  rain  made  the  slides  and  landslips  far 
worse,  than  was  expected.1  These  things  doubtless  told 
against  them,  and  much  of  the  money  raised  never 
found  its  way  to  the  Isthmus.  But  it  was  a more 
terrible  force  that  foiled  them.  It  was  Pestilence, 
Pestilence  coming  on  the  gauzy  wings  of  the  mosquito. 
So  little  did  they  recognize  their  foe  that  when  they 
built  the  large  and  commodious  hospital  at  Ancon 
they  provided,  outside  the  windows,  flower-boxes  where 
stagnant  water  gathered  and  mosquitoes  were  hatched. 
Engineers  died,  foremen  died,  labourers  were  mown 
down  by  hundreds.  Yet  even  if  all  the  French  capital 
had  been  properly  spent  and  better  sanitary  measures 
had  reduced  the  pestilential  conditions,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  the  French  company  could  have  made 
a success  of  the  undertaking.  More  capital  would  have 

1 Fascinated  by  the  example  of  Suez,  and  not  realizing  how  greatly 
the  problem  of  construction  was  affected  by  the  difference  between 
the  very  wet  climate  of  Panama  and  the  absolutely  dry  climate  of 
Suez,  the  French  engineers  originally  planned  a sea-level  canal.  To 
have  carried  out  that  plan  would  have  added  enormously  to  the 
cost,  for  the  Culebra  cutting  must  have  been  not  only  eighty  feet 
deeper,  but  immensely  wider.  Few  who  examine  the  spot  seem 
now  to  doubt  that  the  decision  to  have  a lock  canal  has  been  a 


wise  one. 


32 


SOUTH  AMERICA  • 


been  needed,  capital  which  must  have  been  raised  on 
onerous  terms,  and  when  it  had  all  been  spent  and  the 
work  completed  the  profits  of  the  canal  could  not, 
after  providing  for  working  expenses,  have  paid  in- 
terest on  half  of  the  money  borrowed.  Whoever  looks 
at  this  prodigious  work  feels  that  it  could  be  carried 
through  only  by  a nation  commanding  resources  so 
overflowing  that  it  does  not  need  to  care  how  much 
it  spends,  a nation  which  can  borrow  as  much  money 
as  it  pleases  without  sensibly  affecting  the  quotations 
of  its  existing  national  debt. 

It  is  expected  that  the  construction  of  the  Canal  will 
be  found,  when  it  is  finished,  to  have  cost  nearly 
£80,000,000  ($400, 000, 000). 1 To  this  there  will  have 
to  be  added  the  cost  of  the  fortifications  it  is  intended 
to  erect  at  Colon  and  on  the  islands  that  lie  in  the 
Gulf  of  Panama,  opposite  the  south  end  of  the  Canal, 
as  well  as  of  barracks  for  the  large  garrison  which  is 
to  defend  it.  The  visitor  who  sees  the  slopes  where 
these  forts  and  batteries  are  to  be  placed  asks  who 
are  the  enemies  whom  it  is  desired  to  repel.  Where 
is  the  great  naval  power  that  has  any  motive  either 
of  national  enmity  or  of  self-interest  sufficient  to  in- 
duce it  to  face  the  risks  of  a war  with  a country  so 
populous,  so  wealthy,  and  so  vigorous  as  the  United 
States  ? He  is  told  that  there  is  at  present  no  such 
naval  power,  and  that  no  quarter  can  be  indicated 
whence  danger  will  arise ; but  that  it  is  possible  that 

1 The  last  estimate  presented  puts  the  amount  at  $ 375,000,000. 
The  fortifications  are  expected  to  cost  about  $12,000,000  more. 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


33 


at  some  future  time,  from  some  unknown  direction, 
some  yet  unconjectured  enemy  may  arise  against  whose 
possible  attacks  provision  ought  now  to  be  made. 

When  the  Canal  has  been  opened  and  the  interest 
now  felt  in  getting  it  completed  by  the  appointed  day 
has  ended,  hardly  less  keen  will  be  the  interest  in  that 
other  question  on  which  men  have  speculated  so  long. 
What  difference  will  this  new  waterway  from  ocean 
to  ocean  make  to  world  commerce  and  therewith  also, 
though  probably  in  a less  degree,  to  world  politics? 
And  what  difference,  to  descend  to  smaller  matters, 
will  it  make  to  the  West  Indies,  and  to  the  ports  of 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  (not  so  much  commercially 
as  politically)  to  the  neighbouring  states  of  Central  and 
South  America  ? The  political  side  of  the  matter  is  one 
too  delicate  to  be  discussed  here,  but  upon  the  com- 
mercial one  a word  or  two  may  be  said. 

The  new  route  will  doubtless  become  an  important 
route  for  the  traffic  in_heavy  freight  from  the  Atlantic 
ports  of  the  United  States,  and  from  European  ports 
also,  to  the  ports  of  western  North  America. 

It  will  similarly  become  the  main  freight  line  for  goods 
of  all  kinds  from  both  European  and  eastern  North 
American  ports  to  the  west  coast  of  South  America  as 
far  south  as  Callao,  and  also  from  Gulf  of  Mexico  ports 
as  far  as  Coquimbo  or  Valparaiso.  Whether  the  freight 
traffic  from  Europe  to  Valparaiso  and  the  other  ports  of 
Chile  will  be  greatly  affected,  is  deemed  more  doubtful. 
Much  will,  of  course,  depend  on  the  tolls  fixed  for  transit 
through  the  Canal,  which,  by  the  treaty  of  1901  be- 


34 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tween  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  are  to  be, 
like  those  at  Suez,  equal  between  all  nations. 

The  most  interesting,  because  the  largest,  and  also 
the  most  doubtful  and  complicated,  question  is  as  to 
the  result  upon  European  commerce  to  the  Far  East, 
— Japan,  China,  New  Zealand,  and  Australia.  It  is 
the  most  complicated,  because  many  factors  enter  into 
it,  some  of  them  political  as  well  as  commercial.  Here 
the  Canal  will  compete  with  the  Suez  Canal  route, 
and  (as  respects  Australia  in  particular)  with  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope  route,  and  it  will  also  compete  with 
the  steamship  lines  which  now  ply  from  Australia 
and  New  Zealand  to  England  round  Cape  Horn. 
From  England  to  all  the  Australasian  and  east 
Asiatic  ports,  except  those  of  New  Zealand,  the  Suez 
route  will  be  shorter  than  that  by  Panama.1  From 
New  York,  however,  the  route  by  Panama  to  Sydney, 
Auckland  (New  Zealand),  and  Shanghai  will  be  shorter 
chan  that  via  Suez,  while  to  Hong  Kong  and  Manila  it 
will  be  of  practically  the  same  length.  It  is  generally 
supposed  that  the  Panama  tolls  will  be  lower  than  those 
now  imposed  at  Suez.  Commerce,  like  other  things, 
changes  more  quickly  in  our  age  than  it  did  in  any  pre- 
vious age ; yet  years  may  elapse  before  the  full  results 
of  the  opening  of  the  Canal  disclose  themselves.  Some 
of  the  commercial  as  well  as  the  political  consequences 
which  have  been  due  to  the  making  of  the  Suez 
Canal  were  altogether  unforeseen.  If  a dozen  of  the 

1 London  to  Sydney  via  Suez  11,531  miles,  via  Panama  12,525  ; 
London  to  Auckland  via  Suez  12,638  miles,  via  Panama,  11,404. 


THE  ISTHMUS  OF  PANAMA 


35 


most  important  experts  were,  in  1914,  to  write  out 
and  place  in  the  library  of  the  British  Museum  and 
the  library  of  Congress  their  respective  forecasts  bear- 
ing on  this  subject,  sealed  up  and  not  to  be  opened  till 
a.d.  2000,  they  might  make  curious  reading  in  that 
latter  year. 

The  chief  impressions  which  the  scenery  of  the  Isthmus 
makes  on  the  traveller  have  already  been  indicated,  — 
the  contrast  of  the  wildness  and  solitude  of  the  region 
with  its  wonderful  geographical  position,  which  long 
ago  seemed  destined  to  make  it  a centre  of  commerce 
and  population,  the  contrast  of  the  advantages  offered 
by  that  position  with  the  slothful  neglect  of  those  ad- 
vantages by  its  Spanish  rulers,  the  contrast  one  sees 
to-day  between  the  busy  crowd  of  workers  along  this 
narrow  line  cut  out  from  the  vast  forest  and  the  un- 
touched unpeopled  nature  on  each  side,  the  contrast 
between  the  black  cloud  of  death  that  hung  over  it 
for  four  centuries  and  the  sunshine  of  health  and  energy 
which  medical  science  has  now  poured  around  it. 

But  the  strongest  impression  of  all  is  that  here  one 
sees  the  latest,  so  far  as  can  be  foreseen,  of  any  large 
changes  which  man  is  likely  to  try  to  work  upon  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  Tunnels  longer  than  any  yet 
made  may  be  bored  through  mountains  or  carried  under 
arms  of  the  sea.  The  courses  of  rivers  may  be  diverted. 
Reservoirs  vaster  than  any  we  know  may  be  constructed 
to  irrigate  arid  tracts  or  supply  electric  power  to  cities, 
and  bridges  may  be  built  to  span  straits  like  the  Bos- 
phorus, or  railroads,  like  that  recently  opened  in  south- 


36 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ern  Florida,  be  carried  through  the  sea  along  a line  of 
reefs.  But  nowhere  else  do  there  remain  two  conti- 
nents to  be  divided,  two  oceans  to  be  connected,  by  a 
water  channel  cut  through  a mountain  range. 

There  is  a tale  that  when  the  plan  for  digging  a canal 
at  Panama  was  first  mooted,  Philip  the  Second  of  Spain 
was  deterred  from  it  by  the  argument,  pressed  by  his 
clerical  advisers,  that  if  the  Almighty  had  wished  the 
seas  to  be  joined,  He  would  have  joined  them,  just  as, 
according  to  Herodotus,  the  people  of  Knidus  were  de- 
terred by  the  Delphic  oracle  from  cutting  through  the 
isthmus  along  which  their  Persian  enemies  could  advance 
by  land  to  attack  them.  If  Zeus  had  wished  the  place 
to  be  an  island,  said  the  oracle,  he  would  have  made  it 
one.  But  when  an  age  arrived  in  which  commercial  and 
scientific  views  of  nature  prevailed  against  ecclesiastics, 
it  became  certain  that  here  a canal  would  be  some  time 
or  other  made.  Made  it  now  has  been.  It  is  the  great- 
est liberty  Man  has  ever  taken  with  Nature. 


CHAPTER  II 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 

The  first  part  of  the  voyage  from  Panama  down 
the  coast  towards  Peru  is  enjoyable  when  made  in  a 
steamer,  for  the  sea  is  smooth,  the  southerly  breeze  is 
usually  light,  and  after  passing  through  the  pictur- 
esque isles  that  lie  off  Panama  one  sees  at  no  great  dis- 
tance those  Pearl  Islands  which  at  one  time  rivalled  the 
isles  of  Bahrein  in  the  Persian  Gulf  as  the  chief  pearl 
fishery  of  the  world.  One  wonders  at  the  difficulties 
experienced  by  the  first  Spanish  adventurers,  Vasco 
Nunez  de  Balboa,  and  after  him  Pizarro,  in  their  efforts 
to  get  south,  but  the  reason  is  that  a strong  current 
sets  into  the  Gulf,  and  against  it  and  the  prevailing 
south  winds  it  was  hard  for  the  clumsy  craft  of  those 
days  to  make  progress.  But  on  the  second  morning 
when  we  had  got  four  or  five  hundred  miles  to  the 
south,  what  was  our  surprise  to  find  the  temperature 
getting  lower  and  the  sky  cloudier  as  we  approached 
the  equator.  It  was  chilly  that  evening  and  we  asked 
for  blankets.  Dreams  of  a delightful  basking  in  the 
soft  air  of  a sunlit  sea  were  dispelled!  We  were  en- 
tering cold  weather,  and  it  was  to  continue  with  us 
for  thousands  of  miles,  all  the  way  to  the  Straits  of 
Magellan. 

Everybody  knows  nowadays  how  largely  the  cli- 

37 


38 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mate  and  the  flora  and  the  civilization  of  western 
Europe  are  due  to  the  Gulf  Stream.  But  one  may 
suspect  that  few  people  have  heard  of  an  ocean  current 
on  the  other  side  of  America  equal  in  length  and  vol- 
ume and  scarcely  less  important  in  its  influence  on 
climate.  The  great  Antarctic  current,  or  Humboldt 
current,  as  it  is  sometimes  called  from  the  illustrious 
German  who  first  scientifically  observed  and  ex- 
plained it,  carries  up  from  southern  Chile  to  some  dis- 
tance north  of  the  Equator  a vast  body  of  cold  water 
which  chills  the  atmosphere  of  the  ocean  and  the  coast 
and  frequently  covers  them  both  with  a roof  of  cloud. 
Before  he  crosses  the  Line,  the  traveller  encounters 
this  murky  and  ungenial  weather,  which  excited  the 
wonder  of  the  early  Spanish  writers,  who  expected  to  find 
a zone  just  as  torrid  as  they  had  found  on  the  Atlantic. 
Seldom  thereafter  (during  fully  half  the  year)  does  he 
see  clear  blue  sky,  save  for  perhaps  an  hour  or  two 
each  day,  all  the  way  southward  as  far  as  Valparaiso. 
The  mists  and  clouds  which  this  mass  of  cold  water 
brings  give  the  sun,  the  chief  deity  of  the  ancient  Peru- 
vians of  the  inner  country,  no  chance  on  the  coast, 
while  the  fogs  are  so  frequent  as  to  be  a source  of 
anxiety  to  the  navigator,  and  the  clouds  so  thick  that 
the  great  peaks  of  the  Andes,  though  at  some  points 
only  fifty  or  sixty  miles  distant,  can  rarely  be  seen  from 
the  ocean. 

But  its  cool  and  cloudy  climate  is  only  one  of  the 
singular  features  of  the  coast.  From  the  Isthmus  till 
one  gets  a little  way  south  of  the  Equator  at  the  Gulf 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


39 


of  Guayaquil,  the  usual  wet  summer  season  of  the 
tropics  prevails  and  the  abundant  rains  give  to  the 
highlands  along  the  coast  of  Colombia  and  Ecuador 
splendid  forests,  which  will  one  day  be  a source  of 
wealth  to  those  countries.  But  at  this  point,  or  to  be 
more  precise,  about  the  boundary  of  Ecuador  and  Peru, 
near  the  town  of  Tumbez  where  Pizarro  landed,  the 
climatic  conditions  suddenly  change,  and  there  begins 
a rainless  tract  which  extends  down  the  coast  as  far  as 
Coquimbo  in  30°  S.  latitude.  The  vaporous  moisture 
which  the  southeasterly  trade  winds  bring  up  from 
the  other  side  of  the  continent  is  most  of  it  spent  in 
showers  falling  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Andes,  and 
what  remains  is  absorbed  by  the  air  of  the  dry  plateaux 
between  the  parallel  chains  of  that  range,  so  that  hardly 
any  passes  over  to  the  western  side  of  the  mountains. 
The  Antarctic  current,  cooling  the  air  of  the  warmer 
regions  it  enters,  creates  plenty  of  mists  but  no  rain, 
the  land  being  warmer"  than  the  sea.  Thus  so  much 
of  the  coast  of  western  South  America  as  lies  between 
the  ocean  and  the  Cordillera  of  the  Andes  from 
Tumbez  nearly  to  Valparaiso,  for  a distance  of  some 
two  thousand  miles,  is  dry  and  sterile.  This  strip  of 
land  varies  in  width  from  forty  to  sixty  miles.  It  is 
crossed  here  and  there  by  small  rivers  fed  by  the  snows 
of  the  Andes  behind,  and  along  their  banks  are 
oases  of  verdure.  Otherwise  the  whole  coast  of 
the  strip  is  a bare,  brown,  and  dismally  barren 
desert. 

We  had  hoped  before  reaching  the  arid  region  to 


40 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


touch  at  the  city  of  Guayaquil,  which  is  the  chief  port 
and  only  place  of  commercial  importance  in  the  moun- 
tain republic  of  Ecuador.  It  had,  however,  been  put 
under  quarantine  by  Peru,  owing  to  the  appearance 
in  it  of  yellow  fever  and  the  Oriental  plague,  so  we  had 
to  pass  on  without  landing,  as  quarantine  would  have 
meant  a loss  of  eight  or  ten  days  out  of  our  limited 
time.  Ecuador  is  not  the  most  progressive  of  the  South 
American  countries,  and  Guayaquil  enjoys  the  reputa- 
tion of  being  the  pest-house  of  the  continent,  rivalling 
for  the  prevalence  and  malignity  of  its  malarial  fevers 
such  dens  of  disease  as  Fontesvilla  on  the  Pungwe  River 
in  South  Africa  and  the  Guinea  coast  itself,  and  adding 
to  these  the  more  swift  and  deadly  yellow  fever,  which 
has  now  been  practically  extirpated  from  every  other 
part  of  South  America  except  the  banks  of  the  Amazon. 
The  city  stands  in  a naturally  unhealthy  situation 
among  swamps  at  the  mouth  of  a river,  but  since 
Havana  and  Colon  and  Vera  Cruz  and  Rio  de  Janeiro 
and  even  Santos,  once  the  deadliest  of  the  Brazilian 
ports,  have  all  been  purified  and  rendered  safe,  it  seems 
to  be  high  time  that  efforts  should  be  made  to  improve 
conditions  at  a place  whose  development  is  so  essen- 
tial to  the  development  of  Ecuador  itself. 

Seeing  far  off  the  dim  grey  mountains  around  the 
Gulf  of  Guayaquil,  but  not  the  snowy  cone  of  Chim- 
borazo which  towers  behind  them,  we  touched  next 
morning  at  our  first  Peruvian  port,  the  little  town  of 
Payta,  and  here  got  our  first  impression  of  those  South 
American  deserts  with  which  we  were  to  become  so 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


41 


familiar.  It  is  a row  of  huts  constructed  of  the  whitish 
sun-baked  mud  called  adobe  which  is  the  usual  building 
material  in  the  flat  country,  with  two  or  three  shipping 
offices  and  stores  and  a railway  station,  for  a railway 
runs  hence  up  the  country  to  the  old  town  of  Piura.  A 
stream  from  the  Andes  gives  fertility  to  the  long  Piura 
valley  which  produces  much  cotton  of  an  extremely  fine 
quality.  There  are  also  oil  wells  not  far  off,  so  Payta 
does  some  business,  offering  as  good  an  anchorage  as 
there  is  on  this  part  of  the  coast.  We  landed  and 
climbed  to  the  top  of  the  cliffs  of  soft  strata  that  rise 
steeply  from  the  water,  getting  a wide  view  over  the 
bay  and  to  the  flat-topped  hills  that  rise  fifteen  miles 
or  more  inland.  The  sun  had  come  out,  the  air  was 
clear  and  fresh,  and  though  the  land  was  as  unmiti- 
gated a bit  of  desert  as  I had  ever  seen,  with  only  a 
few  stunted,  prickly,  and  woody  stemmed  plants  sup- 
porting a feeble  life  in  the  hollows  of  the  ground,  still 
it  was  exhilarating  to  Tread  at  last  the  soil  of  a new 
continent  and  receive  a new  impression. 

The  first  view  of  Peru  answers  very  little  to  that 
impression  of  a wealthy  land  called  up  by  the  name  of 
this  country,  more  familiar  and  more  famous  in  the 
olden  days  than  that  of  any  other  part  of  the  colonial 
empire  of  Spain.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a curious  fact  that 
the  wealth  of  Spanish  Peru  belonged  more  to  her 
barren  than  to  her  fertile  and  populous  regions.  In 
the  days  of  the  Incas  it  was  otherwise.  They  ruled 
over  an  agricultural  people,  and  though  they  had  gold 
in  plenty,  gold  to  them  was  not  wealth,  but  material 


42 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


for  ornaments.  Apart,  however,  from  agriculture,  of 
which  I shall  speak  later,  the  riches  of  Peru  have 
consisted  of  three  natural  products,  which  belong  to 
the  drier  tracts.  These  are  the  guano  of  the  rainless 
islands  off  the  coast,  the  nitrate  deposits  in  the  prov- 
ince of  Tarapaca  and  the  mines  of  silver  and  cop- 
per. Of  these  three,  the  guano  has  now  been  nearly 
exhausted,  and  while  it  lasted  it  enriched,  not  the 
country,  but  a succession  of  military  adventurers. 
The  nitrate  regions  have  been  conquered  by  Chile 
and  seem  unlikely  ever  to  be  restored.  The  most  pro- 
ductive of  the  silver  mines  were  taken  away  when 
Bolivia,  in  which  they  are  situated,  was  erected  into  a 
separate  republic,  and  such  mines  as  remain  in  the 
High  Andes,  doubtless  of  great  and  not  yet  fully  ex- 
plored value,  are  in  the  hands  of  foreign  companies  and 
syndicates.  Little  good  have  these  bounties  of  nature 
done  to  the  people  of  Peru,  whether  Spanish  or 
Indian. 

From  Panama  to  Payta  the  direct  steamers  take  five 
days,  and  from  Payta  to  Callao  it  is  two  days  more,  so 
the  whole  voyage  is  about  as  long  as  that  from  New 
York  to  Liverpool  in  the  quick  liners.  This  is  one  of  the 
least  troubled  parts  of  the  ocean;  that  is  to  say,  gales 
are  rare,  and  hurricanes,  like  those  of  the  Caribbean, 
unknown.  There  is,  however,  usually  a pretty  heavy 
swell,  and  when  there  has  been  a storm  some  two  or 
three  hundred  miles  out  to  the  west,  the  great  rollers 
come  in  and  make  landing  along  the  coast  no  easy 
matter.  As  the  ship  keeps  too  far  out  for  the  details  of 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


43 


the  coast  to  be  visible,  the  voyage  is  rather  monotonous, 
especially  in  the  cloudy  weather  we  encountered.  Here 
in  the  Antarctic  current  one  has  lost  the  pleasure  of 
watching  the  gauzy  gleam  of  the  flying  fish,  but  sea- 
birds appear  circling  round  the  ship  and  pelicans 
abound  in  the  harbour.  Whales,  following  the  cold 
water  northward,  are  seen  spouting  and  are  beset  and 
attacked  by  their  enemy  the  thresher,  while  whenever 
the  ship  anchors  in  a roadstead  to  discharge  or  take  in 
cargo,  seals  and  sea  lions  gambolling  among  the  waves 
give  a little  amusement.  The  crew  were  Chileans, — 
they  are  the  only  South  Americans  with  a taste  for  the 
sea — the  passengers  mostly  natives  of  the  various  re- 
publics along  the  coast,  for  these  steamers  furnish  the 
only  means  of  communication  north  and  south,  but  there 
are  usually  some  English  commercial  men  and  North 
Americans  looking  after  their  mining  interests  or  pros- 
pecting for  railways  across  the  Andes.  There  is  much 
more  variety  than  one_usually  finds  in  an  Atlantic  finer, 
but  much  less  than  in  a Mediterranean  or  Black  Sea 
steamer,  where  on  the  same  deck  you  may  see  the  cos- 
tumes and  hear  the  tongues  of  seven  or  eight  nations. 
The  Spanish- Americans  are  not  very  communicative  to 
strangers,  but  whoever  speaks  their  language  can  learn 
a good  deal  from  them  about  minerals  and  revolutions, 
— the  two  chief  products  of  the  northwest  coast. 

To  sail  along  a coast  without  a chance  of  examining 
its  natural  beauties  or  the  cities  that  stud  it,  is  in  most 
cases  mortifying,  but  here  in  the  six  hundred  miles  be- 
tween Payta  and  Callao  one  has  this  consolation,  that 


44 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


there  is  nothing  to  see,  and  you  cannot  see  it.  The 
shores  are  brown,  bare  and  unpeopled,  while  the  heavy 
cloud  roof  that  hangs  over  the  sea,  hides  the  tops  of  the 
hills  also,  and  cuts  off  all  view  of  the  snowy  Cordillera 
far  behind.  The  towns  are  few  and  small,  because  the 
land  is  sterile  save  where  one  of  the  Andean  streams 
gives  fertility  to  a valley.  One  would  naturally  suppose 
that  the  country  had  always  been  even  as  it  is  now. 
But  the  ruins  of  ancient  cities  here  and  there  prove  that 
it  must  once  have  been  far  more  populous.  A census 
taken  soon  after  the  Conquest  shewed  that  there  were 
in  the  Valley  of  Piura  193,000  Indians.  In  1785  the 
inhabitants,  then  mostly  negroes,  numbered  only  44,500. 
Of  these  ruins  the  largest  are  those  of  a city  often  called 
Chimu,  from  the  title  of  the  king  who  ruled  there,  near 
the  town  of  Truxillo,  to  which  Pizarro,  when  he  founded 
it,  gave  the  name  of  his  own  Estremaduran  birthplace. 
The  remains  cover  a wide  space  and  shew  that  the  people 
who  dwelt  here  and  in  the  other  coast  valleys  must  have 
made  considerable  advances  toward  civilization,  for  the 
pottery  and  other  utensils  are  better  in  artistic  style 
than  any  other  remains  found  in  South  America.  The 
kingdom  of  the  Chimu  was  overthrown  by  the  Incas  a 
century  before  the  Spanish  Conquest,  and  nothing  is 
known  of  the  race  except  that  its  language,  called  Mo- 
chica,  was  quite  different  from  that  of  the  mountain 
tribes  who  obeyed  the  Incas.  Whether  the  people 
perished  under  Spanish  oppression,  or  whether  they 
moved  away,  when  in  the  confusion  that  followed  the 
Conquest,  the  irrigation  works  that  made  cultivation 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


45 


possible  were  allowed  to  fall  into  decay — this  is  one 
of  the  many  riddles  of  Peruvian  history. 

Gazing  from  the  deck  hour  after  hour  on  this 
dreary  coast,  and  remembering  that  the  Atlantic  side 
of  the  Continent  in  the  same  latitude  is  one  of  the  best 
watered  and  richest  parts  of  the  tropics,  one  is  struck 
by  the  unfortunate  physical  conditions  that  make  useless 
a region  whose  climate,  kept  so  cool  by  the  Antarctic  cur- 
rent would  otherwise  have  fitted  it  for  the  development 
of  progressive  communities.  Such  communities  did  ex- 
ist among  the  subjects  of  the  Chimu,  but  being  con- 
fined to  a few  valleys,  they  were  not  strong  enough  to 
resist  the  impact  of  the  more  numerous  mountain 
tribes.  Thus  it  was  only  on  the  plateau  behind  that  a 
great  nation  could  grow  up.  With  a moderate  rainfall 
these  six  hundred  miles  of  coast  might  have  been  one 
of  the  most  fertile  parts  of  South  America,  and  the  his- 
tory of  Peru  would  have  been  altogether  different. 
The  absence  of  rain  has  provided  a compensation  in 
the  form  of  a product  which,  though  it  cannot  be  used 
on  the  spot,  became  serviceable  to  other  countries,  and 
might  have  given  Peru  the  means  of  developing  mines 
or  building  railroads.  The  droppings  of  the  swarms  of 
sea-birds  that  frequent  the  rocky  islands  along  the 
coast  instead  of  being,  as  in  other  countries,  washed 
away  by  showers,  have  accumulated  till  they  formed 
those  huge  masses  of  guano  which  eighty  years  ago  began 
to  be  carried  away  and  sold  to  European  countries  as 
the  most  efficient  fertilizers.  The  Inca  sovereigns  knew 
their  value  and  are  said  to  have  protected  the  birds. 


46 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Unfortunately,  this  easily  obtained  source  of  national 
wealth  excited  the  cupidity  of  revolutionary  leaders, 
each  of  whom  fought  for  power  because  power  meant 
the  command  of  the  revenue  derivable  from  these  de- 
posits. Not  much  is  now  left,  and  the  republic  has 
been  none  the  better  for  them.  Some  of  the  largest 
were  on  the  Chincha  Islands.  The  islets  are  all  bare, 
some  shewing  bold  lines  and  sharp  peaks  which  remind 
one  of  those  that  fringe  the  coast  of  Norway  about 
the  Arctic  circle. 

The  entrance  to  Callao,  the  port  of  the  city  of  Lima, 
which  lies  seven  miles  inland  and  is  five  hundred  feet 
higher,  has  a certain  grandeur.  A range  of  hills  abuts 
on  the  sea,  forming  a bold  cape,  and  opposite  to  it, 
leaving  an  entrance  a mile  or  two  wide,  rises  a lofty 
island,  steep,  bare  and  brown  like  the  islands  of  the  Red 
Sea,  which  reduces  the  long  surges  of  the  Pacific  and 
gives  a comparatively  quiet  anchorage  in  the  spacious 
bay  within.  The  town  of  Callao,  consisting  of  steam- 
ship offices  and  warehouses  and  shops  dealing  in  the 
things  ships  need,  offers  nothing  of  interest,  except  the 
remains  of  the  fort  of  St.  Philip,  the  last  building  where 
the  flag  of  Spain  floated  on  the  mainland  of  the  New 
World.  So  the  traveller  hurries  by  the  steam  railroad 
or  the  electric  line  up  to  Lima. 

We  came  full  of  the  expectations  stirred  long  ago  by 
the  fame  of  the  city  Pizarro  built,  and  in  which  he 
ruled  and  perished,  hoping  to  find  in  it  another  and 
a still  more  picturesque  and  more  truly  Spanish  Mex- 
ico. It  was  long  the  first  city  of  South  America,  into 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


47 


which  the  silver  mines  poured  fabulous  wealth.  Its 
Viceroy  was  the  greatest  man  in  the  Continent,  a po- 
tentate whose  distant  master  could  seldom  interfere 
with  him,  for  there  were  no  telegraphs  or  steam  vessels 
in  those  days.  Nobody  but  the  archbishop  could  op- 
pose him ; nor  need  he  fear  anybody  but  the  head  of  the 
Inquisition  and  the  head  of  the  Jesuits.  The  pomp  that 
surrounded  him,  the  pageants  with  which  his  entrance 
was  celebrated,  were  like  those  of  a Mogul  Emperor. 

Lima  was  called  by  Pizarro  the  City  of  the  Kings, 
i.e.  the  Three  Wise  Men  of  the  East,  but  the  name 
it  now  bears,  a variant  from  that  of  the  river  Rimac, 
soon  prevailed.  It  stands  in  a wide  flat  valley,  guarded 
by  steep  mountains  to  the  north,  on  both  banks  of 
the  broad  stony  bed  of  the  Rimac,  a large  part  of 
whose  waters  has  been  diverted  for  irrigation.  Except 
where  this  river  water  has  made  cultivation  possible, 
the  plain  is  bare,  being  part  of  the  coastal  desert. 
The  high  range  of  hiHs  already  mentioned  guards  the 
city  on  the  north,  and  runs  out  to  the  sea  on  the 
northwest.  Lofty  spurs  of  the  Andes  are  visible  to 
the  east,  but  for  much  of  the  year  the  clouds  hang  so 
low  that  the  hills  are  hardly  part  of  the  landscape  and 
the  great  peaks  are  seldom  seen. 

As  in  most  Spanish-American  cities,  the  streets  are 
narrow  and  straight,  cutting  one  another  at  right  angles. 
One  is  at  first  surprised  to  find  the  houses  extremely  low, 
many  of  one  story  and  hardly  any  (save  a few  new  resi- 
dences on  the  outsldrts)  exceeding  two  stories,  and  to 
be  told  that  they  are  built  of  bricks,  or  more  commonly 


48 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  cane  and  reeds  plastered  with  mud.  It  is  com- 
monly said  that  in  Lima  a burglar  needs  nothing 
more  than  a bowl  of  water  and  a sponge  to  soften  the 
plaster,  and  a knife  to  cut  the  canes.  But  the  reason 
is  apparent  when  one  remembers  that  no  place  on  the 
West  coast  has  suffered  more  from  earthquakes.  Thus, 
except  the  convents  and  some  of  the  older  churches, 
everything  looks  modern,  unsubstantial,  and  also  un- 
picturesque,  having  little  variety  and  little  ornament 
in  the  architecture  except  the  long  wooden  balcony  which 
usually  projects  above  the  gateway.  The  bridge  that 
spans  the  Rimac  is  hardly  worthy  of  a great  capital. 
The  shops  are  small  and  mediocre,  and  only  in  one  or 
two  thoroughfares  is  there  any  throng  of  passers  to 
and  fro.  One  notes  little  of  the  life  and  stir,  and  still 
less  of  the  stateliness,  that  befits  an  ancient  and  famous 
home  of  power. 

Yet  to  this  mediocrity  there  is  one  exception.  It  is 
the  great  central  square.  In  a Spanish,  as  in  an  Italian, 
city,  one  usually  enquires  first  for  the  Square,  for  what- 
ever nobleness  a place  has  is  sure  to  be  there.  The  Plaza 
de  Armas  at  Lima  has  much  dignity  in  its  ample  space, 
and  beauty  in  its  fine  proportions,  in  its  central  foun- 
tain, in  the  palms  and  flowering  trees  and  statues  which 
adorn  it,  besides  a wealth  of  historic  associations  in  the 
buildings  that  stand  around  it.  Most  conspicuous  is 
the  Cathedral,  with  its  rich  fagade,  its  two  quaint 
towers,  its  spacious  interior,  not  broken,  as  are  most  of 
the  great  churches  of  Old  Spain,  by  a central  choir,  its 
handsome  carved  choir  stalls,  its  side  chapel  shrines,  in 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


49 


one  of  which  a glass  case  holds  bones  which  tradition 
declares  to  be  those  of  the  terrible  Pizarro.  That  pious 
conqueror  founded  the  church  in  1540,  but  earth- 
quakes have  made  such  havoc  with  the  walls  that 
what  one  sees  now  is  of  much  later  date.  At  the 
opposite  corner  of  the  Plaza  are  the  government  offices, 
comparatively  recent  buildings,  low,  and  of  no  archi- 
tectural interest.  In  the  open  arcade  which  borders 
them  a white  marble  slab  in  the  pavement  marks  the 
spot  where  Pizarro,  cut  down  by  the  swords  of  his  ene- 
mies, the  men  of  Chile,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  with 
his  own  blood  as  he  expired.  The  passage  is  still  shown 
whence  the  assassins  emerged  from  a house  hard  by 
the  Cathedral,  where  they  had  been  drinking  together 
to  nerve  themselves,  and  crossed  the  Plaza  to  attack 
him  in  his  palace.  Also  on  the  Plaza,  facing  the  Cathe- 
dral, is  the  municipal  building,  from  the  gallery  of 
which,  nearly  three  centuries  after  the  Inca  power 
had  fallen  under  the  “assault  of  Pizarro,  General  San 
Martin,  the  heroic  Argentine  who  led  the  revolution- 
ary forces  to  the  liberation  of  Peru,  proclaimed  to 
the  crowd  beneath  the  end  of  Spanish  rule  in  South 
America.  Of  the  old  Palace  of  the  Viceroys,  which  also 
fronted  on  the  Plaza,  there  remains  only  the  chapel, 
now  desecrated  and  used  as  a storehouse  for  archives, 
whose  handsome  ceiling  and  walls,  decorated  with  col- 
oured tiles  of  the  sixteenth  century,  carry  one  back  to 
the  Moorish  art  of  Spain.  Other  churches  there  are 
in  plenty,  — seventy-two  used  to  be  enumerated,  — and 
some  of  them  are  large  and  grandiose  in  style,  but  all 

E 


50 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


are  of  the  same  type,  and  none  either  beautiful  or 
imposing. 

Few  relics  of  antiquity  are  left  in  them  or  indeed  any- 
where in  Lima.  The  library  of  the  University,  the 
oldest  seat  of  learning  in  America,  which  was  formerly 
controlled  and  staffed  by  the  Society  of  Jesus,  suffered 
sadly  at  the  hands  of  the  Chilean  invaders  when  they 
took  the  city  in  the  war  of  1882.  The  old  hall  of  the 
Inquisition,  in  which  the  Peruvian  Senate  now  sits,  has 
a beautiful  ceiling  of  dark  red  cedar  richly  carved,  a 
work  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  Spain.  What  scenes 
may  it  not  have  looked  down  upon  during  the  three 
centuries  when  the  Holy  Office  was  a power  at  the 
name  of  which  the  stoutest  heart  in  Lima  trembled  ! 
And  out  of  the  many  fine  old  mansions  of  colonial  days 
one  has  been  preserved  intact,  with  a beautiful  gal- 
lery running  along  its  four  sides  of  a spacious  patio 
(internal  court),  and  in  front  a long-windowed,  richly- 
decorated  balcony,  a gem  of  the  domestic  architecture 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  perhaps  the  most  per- 
fect, that  earthquakes,  fire,  and  war  have  permitted  to 
survive  in  Spanish  America.  There  is  so  little  else  to 
remember  with  pleasure  from  the  days  of  the  Viceroys 
and  the  Inquisitors  that  these  relics  of  expiring  artistic 
skill  may  be  valued  all  the  more. 

I am  forced  to  confess  that  the  high  expectations  with 
which  we  came  to  Lima  were  scarcely  realized.  The 
environs  are  far  less  beautiful  than  those  of  Mexico, 
and  the  city  itself  not  only  much  smaller,  but  less  stately, 
and  wearing  less  of  the  air  of  a capital.  Our  apprecia- 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


51 


tion  may  perhaps  have  been  dulled  by  the  weather.  We 
were  told  that  the  hills  were  pretty,  but  low  clouds  hid 
all  but  their  bases  from  us;  nor  was  there  any  sunshine 
to  brighten  the  Plaza.  For  more  than  half  the  year, 
Lima  has  a peculiar  climate.  It  is  never  cold  enough  to 
have  a fire,  but  usually  cold  enough  to  make  you  wish 
for  one.  It  never  rains,  but  it  is  never  dry;  that  is  to 
say,  it  is  not  wet  enough  to  make  one  hold  up  an  um- 
brella, yet  wet  enough  to  soak  one’s  clothes.  Septem- 
ber was  as  dark  as  a London  November,  and  as  damp 
as  an  Edinburgh  February,  for  the  fog  was  of  that 
penetrating  and  wetting  kind  which  in  the  east  of  Scot- 
land they  call  a “haar.”  The  climate  being  what  it 
is,  we  were  the  more  surprised  to  hear  what  the 
etiquette  of  courtship  requires  from  a Limeno  lover. 
Every  novio  (admirer)  is  expected  to  shew  his  devotion 
by  standing  for  hours  together  in  the  evening  under 
the  window  of  the  house  in  which  the  object  of  his  ad- 
miration lives.  He  may  or  not  cheer  himself  during 
these  frequently  repeated  performances  by  a guitar,  but 
in  so  moist  an  atmosphere  the  guitar  strings  would  dis- 
course feeble  music. 

Despite  her  earthquakes,  and  despite  her  damp  and 
murky  air,  which  depresses  the  traveller  who  had  looked 
for  brilliant  sunshine,  the  City  of  the  Kings  retains  that 
light-hearted  gaiety  and  gift  for  social  enjoyment  for 
which  she  was  famous  in  the  old  days.  Not  even  po- 
litical disasters,  nor  revolutions  more  frequent  than 
earthquakes,  have  dulled  the  edge  of  pleasure.  There 
had  been  an  attempted  revolution  shortly  before  my 


52 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


visit.  The  President,  an  excellent  man,  courageous 
and  intelligent,  had  been  suddenly  seized  by  a band 
of  insurgents,  dragged  through  the  streets,  threat- 
ened with  death  unless  he  should  abdicate,  fired  at, 
wounded  and  left  for  dead,  until  his  own  troops, 
having  recovered  from  their  surprise  and  found  how 
few  their  assailants  were,  began  to  clear  the  streets 
of  the  revolutionaries,  and  discovered  their  chief  under 
a heap  of  slain.  The  insurgent  general  fled  over  the 
frontier  into  Bolivia,  where  he  was  pointed  out  to  me 
some  weeks  later,  planning,  as  was  believed,  another 
descent  upon  Lima.  Such  events  disturb  the  even 
tenor  of  Peruvian  life  little  more  than  a street  railway 
strike  disturbs  Philadelphia  or  Glasgow. 

Lima  retains  more  of  an  old  Spanish  air  than  do  the 
much  larger  capitals  of  the  southern  republics,  Argen- 
tina, Chile,  and  Uruguay.  Its  viceregal  court  was  long 
the  centre  of  the  best  society  of  the  Continent.  Its 
archbishop  was  the  greatest  ecclesiastical  potentate  in 
the  Southern  Hemisphere.  It  had  a closer  connection 
with  Spain  through  its  leading  families,  as  well  as 
through  official  channels,  than  any  other  place.  Loy- 
alty to  the  Spanish  monarchy  was  strongest  here.  It 
was  the  last  great  city  that  held  out  for  the  Catholic 
King,  long  after  all  the  other  countries,  both  to  the 
north  and  south,  had  followed  the  examples  of  revolt 
set  by  Mexico  and  Argentina.  And  it  is  also,  with  the 
exception  of  remote  and  isolated  Bogota,  where  some 
few  Spanish  families  are  said  to  have  kept  their  Euro- 
pean blood  least  touched  by  native  immixture,  the 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


53 


place  in  which  the  purest  Castilian  is  spoken  and  the 
Castilian  pride  of  birth  is  most  cherished. 

That  a city  so  ancient  and  famous  should  not  have 
more  of  the  past  to  shew,  that  the  aspect  of  streets 
and  buildings  should  not  be  more  stately,  that  there 
should  be  so  little  of  that  flavour  of  romance  which 
charms  one  in  Spanish  cities  like  Seville  or  Avila  — 
these  things  might  be  expected  in  a centre  of  industry 
or  commerce,  losing  its  antique  charm,  like  Niirnberg 
or  Venice,  under  the  coarsening  touch  of  material  pros- 
perity. But  there  is  here  no  growth  of  industry  or 
commerce.  The  Limenos  are  not  what  a North  Amer- 
ican would  call  either  “progressive”  or  “aggressive.” 
The  railways  and  mines  of  Peru  are  mostly  in  the  hands 
of  men  from  the  United  States,  shipping  business  in 
the  hands  of  Englishmen  and  Germans,  retail  trade  in 
those  of  Frenchmen,  Spaniards,  and  others  from  con- 
tinental Europe.  But  the  people  of  Lima  may  answer 
that  there  are  more  ways  than  one  of  being  happy. 
They  enjoy  life  in  their  own  way,  with  more  civil  free- 
dom, and  very  much  more  religious  freedom,  than  under 
the  Viceroys,  and  occasional  revolutions  — now  less 
sanguinary  than  they  used  to  be  — are  better  than  a 
permanent  rule  of  inquisitors  and  officials  sent  from 
Spain.  Some  day  or  other  Lima  wall  be  drawn  into  the 
whirlpool  of  modern  progress.  But  Europe  and  North 
America  are  still  far  off,  and  in  the  meantime  the  inhab- 
itants, with  their  pleasant,  courteous  manners  and  their 
enjoyment  of  the  everyday  pleasures  of  life,  are  willing 
enough  to  leave  mines  and  commerce  to  the  foreigner. 


54 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


From  Callao  it  is  two  days  more  on  to  Mollendo, 
over  a cold,  grey,  tumbling  sea,  along  a brown  and 
cloud-shadowed  coast.  We  had,  however,  changed  into 
a much  larger  steamer,  for  at  Callao  begins  the  through 
ocean  service  all  the  way  to  Liverpool  of  the  Pacific 
Steam  Navigation  Company.  Their  vessels,  not  so 
large  nor  so  luxuriously  fitted  up  as  the  Atlantic  liners 
that  ply  between  Europe  and  New  York,  are  excellent 
sea  boats,  and  commanded  by  careful  British  captains. 

Next  to  Callao  in  its  importance  as  a Peruvian  port, 
is  the  little  town  of  Mollendo,  for  from  it  starts  the  prin- 
cipal railway  in  the  country,  that  called  the  Southern 
of  Peru,  which  climbs  the  Andes,  traverses  the  central 
plateau,  and  sends  out  branches  to  Cuzco  on  the  north, 
and  on  the  southeast  to  the  frontier  of  Bolivia,  on  the 
shore  of  Lake  Titicaca.  It  is  the  main  avenue  to  the 
interior  of  the  country.  Unfortunately  there  is  at 
Mollendo  no  harbour,  only  an  open  roadstead,  where 
vessels  he  rolling  and  pitching  in  the  ocean  swell, 
which  is  sometimes  heavy  enough  to  make  landing  in 
boats  difficult  or  even  dangerous.  A sort  of  break- 
water has  been  made  enclosing  a tiny  port,  but  even 
in  its  shelter,  the  sweep  of  the  great  billow  round  the 
rocky  semicircle  forces  the  disembarking  passenger  to 
jump  hastily  ashore  and  scurry  up  before  the  next  bil- 
low overtakes  him.  No  more  dreary  spot  than  this 
could  be  imagined.  Payta  in  its  desert  was  doleful 
enough,  but  Payta  had  sun ; and  this  place,  under  a 
thick  roof  of  cloud,  was  far  more  gloomy.  Hills  brown 
and  barren  rise  steeply  from  the  beach,  leaving  little 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


55 


room  for  the  few  houses,  brown  as  the  cliff  itself. 
There  is  not  a blade  of  grass  visible,  nor  a drop  of 
fresh  water  within  many  miles,  save  what  a pipe  brings 
from  a distant  river.  Yet,  gloomy  as  the  place  looked 
under  the  grey  cloud  roof  which  was  hanging  over 
land  and  sea,  the  inhabitants  find  it  more  tolerable 
at  this  season  than  such  an  arid  and  treeless  land  be- 
comes when  the  blaze  of  the  sun  is  reflected  from  the 
rocky  hill  face  behind. 

The  railroad  runs  south  for  some  miles  between 
the  cliffs  along  a stretch  of  sand,  on  which  the  surf  booms 
in  slow  thunder,  then  leaves  the  shore  and  turns  up 
into  the  clouds,  mounting  in  long  zigzags  the  steep 
acclivities  of  the  mountain,  and  following  here  and  there 
what  were  hardly  to  be  called  glens,  but  rather  water- 
less hollows,  down  which  once  in  nine  or  ten  years  a 
rain  storm  may  send  a torrent.  The  mists  grow 
thicker  and  damper  as  one  rises,  and  with  the  cooler 
and  damper  air  there  begins  to  be  a little  vegetation, 
some  flowers,  most  of  them  at  this  season  withered, 
and  low,  thorny  shrubs,  such  as  are  usually  found  on 
arid  soils.  Away  off  to  the  south,  occasional  glimpses 
are  caught  of  a river  valley  far  below,  where  the  bright 
green  and  yellow  of  crops  on  the  irrigated  banks  make 
a pleasant  relief  to  the  monotony  of  the  brown  or 
black  slopes,  up  which  we  keep  our  way.  Curiosity 
grows  more  intense  to  know  what  lies  behind  those 
dreary  mountains.  At  last,  after  two  hours  of  steady 
climbing  to  a height  of  over  four  thousand  feet,  the 
train  reaches  what  seems  to  be  the  top  of  the  range, 


56 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


but  proves  to  be  really  the  edge  of  a tableland,  as 
it  emerges  on  to  level  ground,  it  suddenly  passes 
out  of  the  mists  into  dazzling  sunshine,  and  stops 
at  a spot  called  Cachendo.  We  step  out,  and  have 
before  us  a view,  the  like  of  which  we  had  never  seen 
before.  In  front,  looking  eastward,  was  a wide  plain 
of  sand  and  pebbles  with  loose  piles  and  shattered 
ridges  of  black  rock  rising  here  and  there  from  its 
surface,  all  shimmering  in  the  sunlight.  Beyond  the 
plain,  thirty  miles  away,  is  a long  line  of  red  and  grey 
mountains,  their  sides  all  bare,  their  crags  pierced  by 
deep,  dark  gorges,  so  that  they  seem  full  of  shadows. 
Behind  these  mountains  again,  and  some  fifty  or  sixty 
miles  distant,  three  gigantic  mountains  stand  up  and 
close  the  prospect.  That  farthest  to  the  south  is  a 
long  line  of  precipices,  crowned  here  and  there  by  spires 
and  towers  of  rock,  seventeen  thousand  feet  in  height. 
This  is  Pichu  Pichu.  Its  faces  are  too  steep  for  snow, 
save  in  the  gorges  that  scar  them  here  and  there,  but 
lower  down,  where  the  slopes  are  less  abrupt,  every 
gully  is  white  with  desert  sand  blown  up  by  the  winds. 
Next  to  the  north  is  a huge  purplish  black  cone, 
streaked  near  its  top  with  snow  beds,  and  lower  down 
by  lines  of  red  or  grey  ash  and  black  lava.  This  is 
El  Misti,  a volcano  not  quite  extinct,  for  though 
there  has  been  no  eruption  for  centuries,  faint  curls 
of  steam  still  rise  from  the  crater.  It  stands  quite 
alone,  evidently  of  far  more  recent  origin  than  the 
third  great  mass,  its  neighbour  on  the  north,  Chachani, 
which,  though  also  of  volcanic  rock,  has  long  since  lost 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


57 


its  crater,  and  rises  in  three  great  black  pinnacles, 
divided  by  valleys  filled  with  snow.  Both  it  and  Misti 
exceed  nineteen  thousand  feet.  They  are  not,  however, 
the  loftiest  ground  visible.  Far,  far  away  to  the  north, 
there  tower  up  two  white  giants,  Ampato,  and  (farther 
west)  the  still  grander  Coropuna,  whose  height,  not  yet 
absolutely  determined,  may  exceed  twenty-two  thou- 
sand feet  and  make  it  the  rival  of  Illampu  in  Bolivia 
and  Aconcagua  in  Chile.  It  stands  alone  in  a vast 
wilderness,  a flat-topped  cone  at  the  end  of  a long 
ridge,  based  on  mighty  buttresses  all  deep  with  snow 
and  fringed  with  glaciers.1  These  five  mountains  belong 
to  the  line  of  the  great  Western  Cordillera  which  runs, 
apparently  along  the  line  of  a volcanic  fissure,  all  the 
way  north  to  Ecuador  and  Colombia. 

This  was  our  first  view  of  the  Andes,  a view  to  which 
few  parts  of  the  Old  World  furnish  anything  similar, 
for  nowhere  else,  except  in  Iceland,  and  in  Tibet  and 
Turkistan,  do  snow  mountains  rise  out  of  waterless 
deserts.  Yet  this  contrast  was  only  a part  of  the 
strange  weirdness  of  the  landscape,  a landscape  unlike 
Alps  or  Pyrenees  or  Apennines,  unlike  the  Caucasus  or  the 
Himalaya,  unlike  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  Sierra 
Nevada  of  North  America.  The  foreground  of  wan- 
dering sand  and  black  stones,  the  sense  of  solitude  and  of 
boundless  space,  a space  useless  to  man  and  a solitude 

1 Since  our  visit  Coropuna  has  been  ascended  by  my  friend  Pro- 
fessor Hiram  Bingham  of  Yale  University  (U.  S.  A.).  The  average 
of  his  observations  gives  it  a height  of  21,700  feet.  A very  interest- 
ing account  of  his  long  and  difficult  snow  climb  may  be  found  in 
Harper’s  Magazine  for  March,  1912. 


58 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


he  can  never  people,  the  grimness  of  these  bare  walls  of 
rock  and  pinnacles  of  untrodden  snow  rising  out  of  a 
land  with  neither  house  nor  field  nor  flower  nor  animal 
life,  but  only  two  lines  of  steel  running  across  the  desert 
floor,  would  have  been  terrible  were  it  not  for  the  ex- 
quisite richness  and  variety  of  the  colours.  In  the  fore- 
ground the  black  rocks  and  the  myriad  glitter  of  sand 
crystals  were  sharp  and  clear.  The  tints  were  more  deli- 
cate on  the  red  hills  beyond,  and  the  stern  severity  of 
the  precipices  in  the  far  background  was  softened  into 
tenderness  by  distance.  The  sunlight  that  burned  upon 
these  lines  of  iron  and  danced  in  waves  of  heat  upon  the 
rocks,  seemed  to  bring  out  on  all  the  nearer  hills  and 
all  the  distant  crags  varieties  of  hue,  sometimes  con- 
trasted, sometimes  blending  into  one  another,  for  which 
one  could  find  no  names,  for  pink  melted  into  lilac  and 
violet  into  purple.  Two  months  later,  in  the  forests 
of  Brazil,  we  were  to  see  what  the  sun  of  the  tropics 
does  in  stimulating  an  exuberant  life  : here  we  saw  what 
beauty  he  can  give  to  sterility. 

This  “Pampa,”  or  flat  stretch  of  ground  over  which 
the  railroad  runs,  is  the  first  step  eastward  and  upward 
from  the  sea  on  to  the  great  inner  plateau  of  Peru, 
and  has  a height  of  from  four  to  five  or  six  thou- 
sand feet.  Its  surface  is  generally  level,  yet  broken 
by  ridges  and  hummocks  of  rock,  and  dotted  all  over  by 
mounds  of  fine  grey  or  brownish  sand  composed  of  mi- 
nute shining  crystals.  These  sand  hills,  called  medanos, 
are  mostly  crescent  shaped,  much  like  the  moon  in  its 
first  quarter,  steep  on  the  convex  side,  and  from  ten 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


59 


to  fifteen  or  even  twenty  feet  high.  They  drift  from 
place  to  place  under  the  south  wind,  which  blows 
strongly  and  steadily  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  the 
convex  of  the  crescent  always  facing  the  wind.  Some- 
times they  are  swept  on  to  and  block  the  railway 
line ; and  when  this  is  apprehended  large  stones  are 
heaped  up  at  the  convex  of  the  crescent  and  the  move- 
ment is  thus  arrested  or  the  sand  dissipated.  Such 
scanty  vegetation  as  we  had  seen  on  the  mist-covered 
hills  toward  the  coast,  has  here  quite  disappeared  under 
the  fiery  sun,  — not  even  a cactus  lifts  its  stiff  stem.  It 
is  all  sand  and  rocks,  till  the  line,  having  run  for  some 
twenty  miles  across  the  Pampa,  enters  and  begins  to 
climb  the  second  stairway  of  mountains  to  another 
and  higher  level,  which  forms  the  second  terrace 
over  which  the  way  lies  to  the  central  plateau.  The 
stairway  is  that  line  of  red  and  grey  mountains  which 
were  described  as  filling  the  middle  distance  in  the 
view  from  Cachendo.  Winding  up  through  their  hollows 
and  along  their  faces  the  train  enters  a deep  gorge  or 
canyon,  at  the  bottom  of  which,  between  vertical  rock 
walls,  is  seen  a foaming  stream,  and  mounts  along  a ledge 
cut  out  in  the  side  of  the  gorge.  The  canyon  widens  a 
little,  and  at  its  bottom  are  seen  bright  green  patches  of 
alfalfa,  cultivated  with  patient  toil  by  the  Indians  who 
water  them  by  tiny  rills  drawn  from  the  stream.  At 
last  the  line  emerges  on  open  and  nearly  level  ground. 
One  has  mounted  the  second  step  and  reached  the 
second  terrace  or  shelf  of  the  Peruvian  tableland. 
Here  on  a gently  rising  slope,  in  a grand  amphitheatre, 


60 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  northeastern  and  eastern  and  southeastern  sides  of 
which  are  formed  by  the  three  great  peaks,  Chachani, 
El  Misti,  and  Pichu  Pichu  stands  Arequipa,  the  second 
city  in  Peru. 

It  is  built  on  a gentle  slope,  on  both  sides  of  the  river 
Chile,  a torrent  descending  from  distant  snows  in  a 
broad,  shallow  and  stony  bed,  and  indeed  owes  its  exist- 
ence to  this  river,  for  it  was  the  presence  of  water, 
enabling  a little  oasis  in  the  desert  to  be  cultivated, 
that  caught  the  military  eye  of  Francisco  Pizarro. 
Discerning  the  need  for  a Spanish  stronghold  between 
the  interior  tableland  and  the  coast,  he  chose  this 
spot  by  the  river  at  the  foot  of  the  pass  that  gives  the 
easiest  access  to  that  tableland.  It  had  already  been  a 
rest-house  station,  as  its  Quichua  name  implies,  on  one  of 
the  Inca  tracks  from  Cuzco  to  the  sea,  along  which  a ser- 
vice of  swift  Indian  runners  is  said  to  have  been  main- 
tained by  the  Incas  and  to  have  carried  up  fresh  fish  to 
the  monarch  at  Cuzco.  It  became  the  seat  of  a bishop, 
was  soon  well  stocked  with  churches  and  convents,  and 
has  ever  since  held  its  head  high,  proud  of  its  old  fami- 
lies, and  having  escaped  that  occupation  by  the  victori- 
ous Chilean  army  to  which  Lima  succumbed.  The  air 
has  the  desert  quality  of  purity  and  invigorating  fresh- 
ness. Although  thin,  for  the  height  above  the  sea  is 
over  seven  thousand  feet,1  it  is  not  thin  enough  to  affect 
the  heart  or  lungs  of  most  persons  in  ordinary  health. 
The  sun’s  heat  is  great  and  there  is  plenty  of  it, 
for  here  one  is  quite  above  the  region  of  sea  mists, 
1 The  Harvard  Observatory  Report  gives  it  as  7550. 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


61 


but  there  is  so  little  to  do  that  no  one  needs  to  work  in 
the  hot  hours,  and  for  the  matter  of  that,  nobody, 
except  the  Indians,  and  the  clerks  of  a few  European 
firms,  works  at  all.  The  nights  are  deliciously  cool. 
Plenty  of  water  for  fields  and  gardens  and  fountains 
can  be  drawn  from  the  river,  and  if  the  municipal  au- 
thorities took  pains  to  clean  up  the  city  by  removing 
rubbish,  and  set  themselves  to  make  the  outskirts  neater 
and  plant  more  trees,  nothing  would  be  wanting  to  render 
Arequipa,  so  far  as  externals  go,  a delightful  place  of 
residence.  The  clearness  of  the  air  has  led  to  its  being 
selected  as  the  site  of  an  astronomical  observatory 
maintained  by  Harvard  University  for  mapping  out 
the  stars  of  the  Southern  Hemisphere.  Not  even  in 
Egypt  or  in  the  deserts  of  South  Africa  do  the  constella- 
tions shine  with  a more  brilliant  lustre.  The  Harvard 
observers  placed  and  for  a time  maintained  two  mete- 
orological stations  on  El  Misti,  one  near  the  top,  at  a 
height  of  19,200  feet,  "another  at  a point  they  called 
Mont  Blanc  (15,700  feet).  Those  who  know  how  re- 
cent is  the  love  of  mountain  climbing  in  Europe  will 
be  interested  in  hearing  that  the  volcano  was  ascended 
as  far  back  as  a.d.  1677,  on  which  occasion  the  crater 
was  exorcised  and  sacred  relics  cast  into  it.  The  ob- 
servers also  constructed  a mule  path  to  the  summit,  for 
though  the  face  turned  to  Arequipa  is  steep,  there  is  no 
difficulty  in  ascending  from  the  north  by  a circuitous 
track.  There  are  two  craters,  a newer  one  with  a 
diameter  of  1500  feet  inside  a larger  one,  whose  diameter 
is  2800  feet.  I could  find  no  record  of  any  eruption 


62 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  lava  or  ashes  since  the  Spanish  Conquest,  but  the 
vapours  in  the  new  crater,  always  thick,  sometimes  in- 
crease sufficiently  to  alarm  the  Arequipenos. 

The  line  of  perpetual  snow  is  extremely  high  in  this 
dry  region,  as  it  is  in  the  equally  dry  peaks  of  northern 
Chile.  On  some  mountains  of  19,000  feet  the  snow  dis- 
appears in  summer,  except  in  sunless  hollows. 

I found  myself  wondering  whether  the  fascination  of 
ohe  city,  with  views  out  over  the  furrowed  desert 
to  the  west,  where  the  sun  goes  down  into  the  cloud 
bank  that  hangs  over  the  Pacific,  and  views  up  to  the 
tall  peaks  that  guard  it  to  the  east,  would  retain  its 
power  when  it  had  grown  familiar,  and  wondering, 
also,  whether,  through  the  four  centuries  since  Euro- 
peans came  to  dwell  here,  there  were  many  who  drew 
delight  from  the  marvellous  nature  that  surrounds 
it,  and  found  in  the  contemplation  of  this  extraordi- 
nary scenery  some  relief  from  the  monotony  of  life 
in  a society  so  small  and  so  isolated.  The  three 
great  mountain  masses  that  tower  over  the  city,  em- 
blems of  solid  and  unchanging  strength  in  their  form, 
are  always  changing  in  their  aspect.  The  snows  creep 
down  in  the  season  of  rains,  and  ascend  again  when  the 
time  of  drought  returns.  Sunrise  and  sunset  bring 
perpetual  miracles  of  loveliness  in  the  varying  play 
of  colours  upon  snow  and  rocks.  Pichu  Pichu,  with  its 
long,  grey  line  of  precipices,  glows  under  the  western 
sun  in  every  tint  of  pink  and  crimson.  Chachani’s 
black  pinnacles  turn  to  a dark  violet,  while  the  snows 
between  them  redden.  In  the  middle  the  broad-based 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


63 


cone  of  El  Misti,  with  its  dark  lava  flows  and  beds  of 
brown  or  yellow  ash,  ranges  from  glowing  orange  to  a 
purple  deep  as  if  the  mountain  were  all  colour  to  its 
core.  Behind  it,  when  twilight  comes,  there  rises  to 
the  zenith  a pale  bank  of  pearly  grey,  faintly  touched 
by  the  light  that  is  dying  in  the  west.  No  wonder  that 
this  solemn  and  majestic  summit,  traditions  of  whose 
outbursts  of  fire  in  days  gone  by  still  survive,  has  been 
personified  and  worshipped  by  the  Indians,  who,  though 
nominally  Christians,  have,  like  other  primitive  races, 
retained  a great  deal  of  the  ancient  nature  religion 
which  sees  spirits  in  all  remarkable  objects.  The 
reverence  for  the  mountain  deities  still  lingers  in  secret 
among  them,  though  it  seldom  takes  form  in  sacrifices 
like  those  of  the  olden  time,  when,  as  tradition  says, 
youths  and  maidens  were  flung  into  the  crater  to  appease 
the  wrath  of  the  fire  spirit.  A Jesuit  annalist  relates 
how,  in  a.d.  1600,  when  the  volcano  of  Ornate,  farther 
to  the  southeast,  was -in  violent  eruption,  casting  forth 
showers  of  ashes  which  fell  round  Arequipa,  darkening 
the  sky,  while  a glow  of  lurid  light  shone  from  the  dis- 
tant crater,  the  Indian  wizards  robed  themselves  in 
red  and  offered  to  Ornate  sacrifices  of  sheep  and  fowls, 
beseeching  the  mountain  not  to  overwhelm  them. 
Then  he  adds,  “These  wizards  told  the  Indians  that 
they  talked  to  the  Devil,  who  told  them  of  the  approach- 
ing catastrophe,  and  said  that  Ornate  had  asked  El  Misti 
to  join  him  in  destroying  all  the  Spaniards.  But  El  Misti 
answered  that  he  could  not  help  Ornate,  because  he  had 
been  made  a Christian  and  had  received  the  name  of 


64 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


San  Francisco;  so  Ornate  was  obliged  to  undertake  the 
work  alone.” 1 

Built  far  more  solidly  than  Lima,  with  house  walls 
five  or  six  feet  thick,  and  lying  more  out  of  the  stream 
of  modernizing  conditions,  Arequipa  has  retained  an 
air  of  antiquity,  and,  it  may  be  said,  of  dignity, 
superior  to  that  of  the  capital.  As  one  looks  north- 
eastward from  the  lower  part  of  the  town  up  the  ris- 
ing ground,  the  numerous  churches,  with  here  and  there 
a tall  conventual  pile,  make  a varied  and  effective 
skyline.  The  gardens  on  the  higher  northwestern  bank 
of  the  river  relieve  the  mass  of  houses,  and  the  yellow- 
ish grey  volcanic  stone  of  which  they  are  built,  mel- 
lowed by  the  strong  sun,  shews  well  against  the  purple 
mass  of  Misti.  There  are  some  picturesque  street 
vistas  too,  but  one  misses  the  bright  colours  of  peasant 
dress  which  a city  of  Old  Spain  or  Italy  would  shew. 
The  women  are  largely  in  black.  The  black  manta 
drawn  over  the  head  is  absolutely  prescribed  for 
church ; indeed,  even  a European  visitor  is  not  al- 
lowed to  enter  a church  anywhere  in  these  countries  in 
hat  or  toque ; she  must  cover  her  head  with  the  manta. 

The  houses  are  low,  for  here,  too,  earthquakes  are 
dreaded,  and  the  streets  roughly  paved  with  large 
cobblestones  of  hard,  smooth  lava.  Streams  of  water 
drawn  from  the  river  run  down  many  of  them,  and 
other  streams  water  the  fields  along  the  outskirts. 

1 Quoted  in  the  learned  notes  to  Mr.  Bandelier’s  valuable  book, 
Islands  of  Titicaca  and  Koati,  p.  161,  from  a MS.  in  the  National 
Archives  at  Lima.  Ornate  is  probably  the  volcano  now  usually 
known  as  Ubinas. 


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65 


Here  and  there  one  sees  a garden  planted  with  dark 
green  trees,  which  relieve  the  glare  of  light.  The 
Plaza,  less  ample  than  that  of  Lima,  is  hardly  less 
striking,  with  the  great  pile  of  the  Cathedral  occupying 
more  than  half  of  one  side  of  it,  arcades  filled  with 
shops  bordering  the  other  three  sides,  flowers  and  shrubs 
planted  in  the  middle.  Everything  reminds  one  of  the 
Asiatic  or  North  African  East,  — the  long,  low,  blank 
house  walls  which  enclose  the  streets,  walls  into  which 
few  and  small  windows  open,  because  the  living  rooms 
look  into  a central  yard  or  patio ; the  concentration  of 
the  better  sort  of  shops  in  arcades  which  represent  the 
Eastern  bazaar ; the  flat  roofs  on  which  people  sit  in 
the  evenings ; the  deep  and  pungent  dust ; the  absence 
of  wheeled  vehicles ; for  everybody  rides,  the  richer  on 
horses  and  the  rest  of  the  world  on  donkeys ; the  scantily 
dressed  Indians,  wild  looking  as  Bedaween,  though 
with  reddish  brown  instead  of  yellowish  brown  skins. 
Instead  of  camels  there  are  llamas,  the  one  native  beast 
of  burden  in  Peru,  much  smaller  than  the  camel  and 
more  handsome,  but  not  unlike  it  in  its  large  lustrous 
eyes,  and  in  the  poise  of  its  long  neck,  with  the  small 
erect  head  slightly  thrown  back.  It  resembles  the 
camel  also  in  its  firm  resolve  not  to  move  except  at 
its  own  fixed  pace,  and  to  bear  no  load  heavier  than 
that  (of  one  hundred  pounds)  to  which  it  is  accustomed. 
The  brilliant  light,  too,  and  the  dry,  keen  air  are  like 
the  light  and  air  of  the  East.  But  no  Eastern  city  has 
around  it  a mountain  landscape  like  this.  One  must 
place  Tunis  or  Trebizond  in  the  valley  of  Zermatt  to 


66 


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get  an  impression  of  Arequipa  as  it  stands,  encircled  by 
snow  fields  and  majestic  towers  of  rock. 

The  Oriental  quality,  which  startles  one  in  these 
Spanish- American  cities  of  the  Far  West  is  perhaps 
not  wholly  due  to  the  Moorish  influences  transmitted 
through  their  Spanish  colonists.  Climatic  and  social  con- 
ditions resembling  those  of  northern  Africa  and  southern 
Spain  have  counted  for  a good  deal.  Sunlight  and 
dryness  prescribe  certain  ways  of  building,  and  the 
Peruvian  Indian  resembles  the  Arab  or  the  Moor  in 
his  indifference  to  cleanliness  and  comfort.  Here  in 
Arequipa,  one  begins  to  realize  that  Peru  is  in  respect 
of  population  still  essentially  a land  of  the  aborigines. 
All  the  lower  kinds  of  work  are  done  by  Indians,  and 
the  class  next  above  is  at  least  half  Indian  in  blood, 
though  not  readily  distinguishable  from  the  man  of  Span- 
ish stock,  either  in  aspect  or  in  character  and  manners. 
The  negro  who  still  abounds  at  Lima  and  Callao,  though 
he  is  beginning  to  be  absorbed  into  the  mass  of  whites, 
is  no  longer  seen  at  Arequipa,  for  he  cannot  stand  this 
cold,  thin,  highland  air ; and  even  the  zambo,  a half- 
breed  of  Indian  and  negro,  who  is  said  to  want  the  best 
qualities  of  both  races,  is  a trifling  element.  Here  and 
elsewhere  in  South  America  it  is  impossible  to  determine 
the  proportion  of  perfectly  pure  Spanish  families  to  the 
whole  population.  Probably  it  is  small,  not  five  per 
cent  over  the  whole  country,  but  in  Arequipa  it  may 
be  much  larger. 

In  one  respect  the  city,  while  thoroughly  Spanish, 
is  very  unlike  the  East.  It  is,  and  always  has  been, 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


67 


steeped  in  ecclesiasticism.  The  Cathedral  is  a long 
and  handsome  pile,  rebuilt  after  the  earthquake  of 
1868,  with  two  towers  on  its  south  front,  and  an  un- 
usually spacious  and  unadorned  interior.  It  contains 
a picture  attributed  to  Van  Dyck.  There  is  one 
other  church  of  special  interest,  that  called  the  “ Com- 
pania,”  i.e.  church  of  the  Company  of  Jesus.  Every- 
where in  South  America  the  Jesuits  were  numerous, 
wealthy,  and  powerful  till  their  suppression  in  the  middle 
of  the  eighteenth  century ; and  here,  as  in  many  Italian 
and  Spanish  towns,  their  churches  are  the  most  pro- 
fusely decorated  without  and  within.  The  north 
fagade  of  this  one,  built  of  reddish  grey  sandstone,  is  a 
wonderfully  rich  and  finely  wrought  piece  of  ornamen- 
tation, and  the  seventeenth  century  pictures  and  wood 
carvings  of  the  interior  are  curious  if  not  beautiful 
specimens  of  the  taste  of  the  time.  There  are  scores 
of  other  churches  and  convents,  far  more  than  suffi- 
cient for  a city  of  thirty-five  thousand  people.  Their 
bells  clang  all  day  long,  and  clerical  costumes  are 
everywhere  in  the  streets.  What  is  still  more  remark- 
able, the  men,  as  well  as  the  women,  are  practising 
Catholics,  and  attend  church  regularly,  a rare  thing  in 
most  parts  of  Spanish  America.  The  city  was  always 
an  ecclesiastical  stronghold,  and  during  the  long  War 
of  Independence,  was  accounted  the  most  conservative 
place  in  Peru.  Indeed,  it  is  so  still. 

But  if  Arequipa  seems  old-fashioned  and  conservative 
to-day,  when  a railway  connecting  it  with  the  coast 
brings  it  within  three  days  of  Lima,  what  must  it  have 


68 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


been  two  centuries  ago,  when  probably  one-third  of  the 
white  population  consisted  of  priests,  monks,  and  nuns, 
and  the  Church  ruled  unquestioned? 

One  can  imagine  no  spot  more  absolutely  cut  off 
than  this  was  from  the  world  outside.  It  was  an  oasis 
like  Tadmor  in  the  wilderness.  Three  days’  journey 
across  desolate  wastes  lay  between  it  and  the  coast,  a 
coast  itself  scarcely  inhabited,  and  behind  towards 
the  north  and  east  there  were  only  mountain  solitudes, 
over  which  pastoral  Indians  roved.  The  bishop  and 
the  head  of  the  Jesuits  were  the  real  powers,  even  the 
governor,  and  beneath  him  the  alcalde,  bowing  to 
them.  Nowhere  in  the  world  to-day  could  one  find 
anything  like  that  uniformity  of  opinion  and  custom 
which  reigned  in  this  little,  remote  city  in  those  colo- 
nial days  which  came  down  into  the  days  of  Hume  and 
Bentham  in  England,  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau  in  France, 
and  indeed  down  almost  to  the  memory  of  men  still 
living.  The  vision  of  the  Holy  Office  in  the  background 
at  Lima  was  hardly  needed  to  enforce  absolute  submis- 
sion of  word  and  thought  in  such  a society.  The  traveller 
of  to-day  marvels  at  the  stillness  and  stagnation  of  one 
of  the  smaller  cities  in  the  interior  of  Old  Spain.  Yet  a 
Spanish  city,  however  small  or  remote,  is  at  least  in 
Europe:  there  are  other  cities  not  far  off,  and  men 
come  and  go.  Here  there  were  no  breaks  in  the  mo- 
notony of  life,  nothing  but  local  interests  of  the  most 
trivial  sort  to  occupy  men’s  minds.  The  only  events 
were  feast  days  and  religious  processions,  with  now 
and  then  an  earthquake,  and  once,  thirty  years  before 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


69 


the  War  of  Independence,  the  terror  of  an  Indian  in- 
surrection far  up  in  the  plateau. 

Yet  life  was  not  wholly  monastic.  There  was  some 
learning,  mostly  theological.  There  was  also  a good  deal 
of  verse  making  : Arequipa  was  even  famous  for  its 
poets.  Upon  what  themes  did  their  Muse  employ 
itself  ? What  sighs  were  there  from  nuns  behind  the 
convent  walls  ? What  sort  of  a human  being  was  the 
bishop  who  walked  in  solemn  processions  behind 
chanting  choristers  to  and  from  his  Cathedral  ? Must 
there  not  have  been  even  here  the  perpetual  play  of 
human  passion,  and  could  any  weight  of  conservatism 
and  convention  extinguish  the  possibilities  of  romance  ? 
I heard  from  a trustworthy  source  a story  which  shews 
that  even  in  grave  and  rigid  Arequipa  love  would  have 
its  way  and  that  the  hearts  of  stately  ecclesiastics 
could  melt  in  pity.  I tell  it  in  my  informant’s  words. 

In  old  colonial  days  there  lived  in  Arequipa  a power- 
ful family  owning  large-  estates  and  rich  mines  which 
they  had  inherited  from  their  ancestors  among  the 
Conquistadores.  They  wielded  authority  both  in 
Church  and  State.  At  the  time  when  the  incident  to  be 
described  happened  the  heads  of  the  family  were  two 
brothers,  of  whom  the  elder  held  the  landed  property  and 
the  younger  was  bishop  and  ruled  the  Church.  The 
elder  was  a widower  with  two  children,  a son  and  a 
daughter.  The  great  convent  of  Nuestra  Senora  de  los 
Dolores,  founded  and  richly  endowed  by  this  family, 
always  had  one  of  its  members  as  its  Abbess,  and  at  that 
time  the  only  sister  of  these  two  brothers  held  the  post. 


70 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  family,  being  a power  in  Arequipa,  sought  to 
preserve  their  supremacy,  and  accordingly  decided 
that  the  young  daughter  of  the  elder  brother  should 
enter  the  convent  and  eventually  succeed  her  aunt  as 
Abbess,  while  her  brother  should  marry  and  inherit  the 
estates.  The  girl  had  no  vocation  for  a religious  life 
and  rebelled  against  the  fate  proposed  for  her,  but  the 
father  and  uncle  were  inexorable,  and  after  a vain 
struggle  she  was  forced  to  yield  and  take  the  veil. 
Her  aunt  felt  sympathy  for  the  poor  child,  having 
perhaps  passed  through  a like  experience  herself,  and 
she  made  the  young  sister’s  religious  duties  as  light  as 
possible,  allowing  her  to  lead  the  choir,  as  she  possessed 
a fine  voice,  and  giving  her  the  business  of  the  convent 
to  attend  to.  Embroidery  was  one  of  the  occupations 
of  the  nuns,  especially  fine  work  on  linen,  the  designs 
for  which  were  brought  from  Spain;  and  to  supervise 
this  work  and  to  take  care  of  it  was  one  of  the  girl’s 
chief  pleasures.  She  always  despatched  it  to  the 
laundry  herself  and  received  it  on  its  return,  laying  it 
carefully  in  the  presses  perfumed  with  jasmine  flowers, 
and  the  laundress  was  the  only  person  from  the  outside 
world  (except  her  own  family)  with  whom  she  had  any 
communications.  This  laundress  happened  to  be  an 
alert  and  intelligent  woman,  and  she  gave  the  nun  all 
the  news  she  had  of  the  world  outside  the  convent  walls. 
After  the  young  sister  had  been  about  five  years  in  the 
convent  the  Abbess  fell  ill,  and  all  the  old-fashioned 
remedies  known  to  the  nuns  failed  to  help  her.  She 
grew  steadily  worse  and  they  were  beginning  to  think  of 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


71 


administering  the  last  offices  of  the  Church  when  the 
laundress  suggested  to  the  niece  of  the  Abbess  that  the 
clever  Scotch  physician  who  had  lately  come  to  Arequipa 
should  be  consulted.  To  consult  a man  and  a heretic 
horrified  the  nuns,  but  the  laundress  pressed  her  advice, 
and  finally  the  bishop  was  appealed  to  and  was  in- 
duced, since  his  sister’s  life  was  at  stake,  to  give  his 
consent.  The  patient,  however,  even  then  refused  to 
see  the  doctor  in  person,  but  the  niece,  closely  veiled, 
was  to  be  allowed  to  have  an  interview  with  him  and  to 
describe  the  symptoms.  Although  the  doctor  was  aware 
that  an  opinion  given  under  such  circumstances  was  of 
little  use,  he  consented  to  this  arrangement.  Accord- 
ingly, at  the  appointed  time  he  presented  himself  at 
the  convent  gate,  under  the  guidance  of  the  laundress, 
and  was  taken  to  the  antechamber  of  the  Abbess’s  apart- 
ment, for  a lady  of  such  high  rank  as  the  Abbess  did  not 
occupy  a cell.  There  the  niece  received  him,  closely 
veiled,  and  described  her  aunt’s  condition.  On  his 
asking  her  if  she  could  count  the  pulse,  she  replied, 
“No,  I have  never  tried.”  “If  you  will  place  your 
fingers  on  my  wrist,  I will  teach  you,”  he  said.  Timidly 
she  did  as  he  bade  her,  and  counted  the  beats;  and, 
thrilled  as  he  was  by  the  musical  softness  of  her  voice, 
it  is  possible  that  he  prolonged  the  lesson,  for  at  length 
she  said,  “I  understand  perfectly,  and  will  now  go  and 
count  my  aunt’s  pulse,”  and  returned  presently  with  a 
written  report.  During  her  absence  the  doctor  had 
made  enquiries  of  the  laundress  in  regard  to  the  Abbess’s 
symptoms,  and  had  decided  that  the  old  lady  was  suffer- 


72 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ing  from  cancer  and  had  not  long  to  live.  But  the 
young  sister  had  made  too  profound  an  impression  on 
him  to  let  him  give  up  the  case  at  once,  and  he  pre- 
scribed some  soothing  remedies  and  offered  to  return 
in  the  morning.  These  visits  continued  for  several  days, 
and  at  last  he  succeeded  in  seeing  the  sister’s  beauti- 
ful face  and  counting  her  pulse.  The  laundress  could 
not  always  be  in  attendance,  and  the  narcotics  adminis- 
tered to  the  Abbess  dulled  her  vigilance.  Realising  that 
his  patient’s  days  were  numbered  and  that  his  work 
would  soon  be  over,  he  saw  there  was  no  time  to  lose. 
The  scruples  of  the  young  sister  were  finally  overcome. 
Love  won  the  day,  and  she  promised  to  fly  with  her 
lover  after  the  death  of  her  aunt.  With  the  help  of 
the  laundress  he  devised  a plan  for  escape.  The  con- 
vent was  built  of  stone  and  the  sisters’  cells  were  solidly 
arched  like  casemates,  the  only  wood  about  them  being 
the  doors.  Obtaining  a skeleton  from  the  hospital, 
the  doctor  took  it  to  the  house  of  the  laundress  and  she 
conveyed  it  in  a large  linen  basket  to  the  convent  the 
day  after  the  funeral  of  the  Abbess,  and  concealed  it  in 
the  young  sister’s  bed.  That  night  the  girl  set  fire  to  her 
bed,  and  in  the  confusion  occasioned  by  the  smoke  and 
the  alarm  she  escaped  unnoticed  into  the  street,  where  the 
laundress  awaited  her  and  took  her  to  her  house.  The 
frightened  nuns  sought  for  her  in  vain,  and  when 
finally  a few  charred  bones  were  found  in  her  cell,  which 
they  imagined  in  their  ignorance  to  be  hers,  they  mourned 
her  as  dead,  and  buried  the  bones  with  all  the  honour 
due  to  her  rank  and  station.  Meanwhile  the  girl 


THE  COAST  OF  PERU 


73 


herself  was  in  great  danger,  for  had  she  been  discovered 
she  would  have  been  tried  for  faithlessness  to  her  vows, 
and  she  shuddered  at  the  bare  possibility  of  the  old 
punishment  of  being  walled  up  alive.  It  was  impos- 
sible to  stay  long  in  the  laundress’s  house,  and  the 
doctor  implored  her  to  fly  with  him  to  the  coast, 
an  arduous  ride  of  seventy  miles  over  the  desert. 
Recoiling  from  such  a step,  she  insisted  on  first  trying 
to  win  the  pardon  and  protection  of  her  relatives, 
and  she  resolved  to  throw  herself  on  the  mercy  of  her 
uncle,  the  bishop,  who  had  always  shewn  her  much 
affection  and  was  all-powerful  with  the  rest  of  the 
family.  Accordingly,  just  after  twilight,  and  wrapped 
in  her  manta,  which  concealed  her  face  and  figure,  she 
stole  into  the  bishop’s  palace,  where  she  found  her  uncle 
at  evening  prayer,  and  throwing  herself  on  her  knees 
before  him,  she  implored  his  protection.  He  took  her 
at  first  for  her  own  ghost  (for  had  he  not  performed  the 
funeral  service  over  her  remains  ?) , and  when  he  dis- 
covered that  it  was  really  she,  in  flesh  and  blood,  he  was 
horrified  and  put  her  from  him  as  he  would  a viper. 
But  as  she  still  clung  to  him,  telling  him  her  story  and 
imploring  his  mercy  and  protection,  he  at  last  listened 
to  her,  and  finally  said,  "wait  a moment,”  and  left  the 
room,  returning  shortly  with  a bag  containing  money  and 
family  jewels,  emeralds,  which  he  thrust  into  her  hand. 
“Take  this,”  he  whispered,  “and  fly  with  your  lover  to 
the  coast.  I will  see  that  you  are  not  followed.”  She 
found  the  doctor  with  horses  at  the  city  gate,  and  they 
rode  away  across  the  desert,  never  stopping  except  to 


74 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


change  their  mounts  and  to  eat  a little  food,  until  they 
reached  the  coast,  where  by  an  extraordinary  piece  of 
luck  they  found  an  English  frigate  lying  at  anchor. 
Hurrying  on  board  they  told  the  captain  their  story, 
and  he  at  once  summoned  the  chaplain,  who  married 
them,  and  they  were  soon  on  their  way  to  England. 

Time  passed,  and  the  South  American  colonies  be- 
came independent  of  Spain.  Many  years  later,  the 
brother  of  the  nun  went  on  a public  mission  to  Europe. 
Before  he  left  Peru  his  uncle,  the  bishop,  told  him  the 
story  of  his  sister’s  life,  which  had  been  kept  secret 
until  then,  and  after  telling  him  where  she  was  to  be 
found  (for  through  the  Church  he  had  watched  over 
her),  he  desired  her  brother  to  communicate  with  her. 
This  the  nephew  did  in  due  course,  and  his  sister  was 
finally  forgiven,  and  her  descendants  recognized  and 
received  by  their  Peruvian  relatives.  One  of  these 
descendants  was  seen  by  my  informant  wearing  the 
emeralds  that  had  been  in  the  bishop’s  bag. 


CHAPTER  III 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS 

None  of  the  countries  of  South  America,  except  Chile, 
has  been  demarcated  by  Nature  from  its  neighbour; 
it  is  to  historical  events  that  they  owe  their  present 
boundaries.  This  is  eminently  true  of  Peru,  which  is, 
save  on  her  ocean  side,  marked  off  from  the  adjoining 
countries  neither  by  river  line  nor  by  mountain  line 
nor  by  desert.  Her  territory  includes  regions  naturally 
very  dissimilar,  about  each  of  which  it  is  proper  to 
say  a few  words  here. 

The  western  strip,  bordering  on  the  Andes  and  the 
Pacific,  is  nearly  all  pure  desert,  sterile  and  unin- 
habited, except  where  those  river-valleys  referred  to 
in  the  last  chapter  descend  to  the  sea.  The  eastern 
part,  lying  on  the  farther  side  of  the  Andes,  and  called 
by  the  people  the  Montana,  subsides  from  the  moun- 
tains into  an  immense  alluvial  plain  and  is  covered 
by  a tropical  forest,  thick  and  trackless,  unhealthy  for 
Europeans,  and  inhabited,  except  where  a few  trading 
towns  have  been  built  on  the  rivers,  only  by  Indian 
tribes,  none  of  them  much  above  savagery,  and  many 
still  heathen.  It  is  a region  most  of  which  was  until 
lately  virtually  unexplored  and  thought  not  worth  ex- 
ploring. Within  recent  years,  however,  the  demand 
for  india  rubber  has  brought  in  the  agents  of  various 
trading  companies,  who  have  established  camps  and 

75 


76 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


stations  wherever  the  rivers  give  access  to  the  forests 
and  send  the  rubber  down  the  Amazon  to  be  shipped 
to  Europe  and  North  America.  The  harmless  and 
timid  Indians  have  in  some  places  been  seized  and 
forced  to  work  as  slaves  by  ruffians  supplying  rub- 
ber to  these  companies,  wretches  apparently  of  mixed 
Spanish  and  native  blood,  who  have  been  embold- 
ened by  the  impunity  which  remoteness  from  regular 
governmental  control  promises  to  perpetrate  hid- 
eous cruelties  upon  their  helpless  victims.  It  is  a coun- 
try of  amazing  natural  wealth,  for  the  spurs  of  the 
Andean  range  are  full  of  minerals;  there  are  superb 
timber  trees  in  the  forests,  and  the  soil,  wherever  the 
trees  and  luxuriant  undergrowths  have  been  cleared  off 
from  it,  has  proved  extremely  fertile,  fit  for  the  growth 
of  nearly  every  tropical  product.  Eastern  Peru  is  phys- 
ically a part,  and  not  the  largest  part,  of  an  immense 
region  which  includes  the  easternmost  districts  of  Co- 
lombia and  Ecuador  upon  the  north  and  of  Bolivia 
on  the  south,  as  well  as  a still  larger  area  in  western 
Brazil  over  which  the  same  climatic  conditions  pre- 
vail — great  heat  and  great  humidity  producing  a vege- 
tation so  prolific  that  it  is  hard  for  man  to  hold  his  own 
against  the  forces  of  nature.  This  is  indeed  the  reason 
why  these  tracts  have  been  left  until  now  a wilderness, 
suffering  from  the  superabundance  of  that  moisture, 
the  want  of  which  has  made  a wilderness  of  the  lands 
along  the  Pacific  coast.  To  this  region,  however,  and 
to  its  future  I shall  return  in  a later  chapter,1  and  men- 
1 Chapter  XVI. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  77 


tion  it  here  only  because  it  is  politically  a part,  and 
may  hereafter  become  the  most  productive  part,  of  the 
Peruvian  Republic.  The  real  Peru,  the  Peru  of  the 
ancient  Indian  civilization  and  of  the  Spanish  colonial 
Empire,  is  the  central  region  which  lies  along  the  Andes 
between  these  thinly  settled,  far  eastern  forests  and  the 
barren  deserts  of  the  Pacific  coast. 

Central  Peru  is  altogether  a mountain  land,  and  is 
accordingly  called  by  the  people  “the  Sierra.”  It  is 
traversed  by  two  (more  or  less  parallel)  ranges  of  the 
Andes,  the  eastern  and  the  western  Cordilleras,  which 
with  their  spurs  and  their  branching  ridges  cover  a 
large  part  of  its  area.  It  includes  what  is  called  the 
Puno,  a comparatively  level  plateau,  some  seventy  to 
one  hundred  miles  wide  and  enclosed  by  these  two  main 
lines  of  the  Cordilleras.  Between  the  main  ranges  and 
their  branches,  there  lie  deep  valleys  formed  by  the 
courses  of  the  four  or  five  great  rivers  which,  flowing 
in  a northwesterly  or  northeasterly  direction  and  ulti- 
mately turning  eastward,  unite  to  form  the  mighty 
Amazon.  This  Sierra  region  is,  roughly  speaking,  about 
three  hundred  miles  long  (from  northwest  to  southeast) 
and  one  to  two  hundred  miles  wide ; but  of  this  area 
only  a small  part  is  fit  for  settled  human  habitation. 
The  average  height  of  the  plateau  is  from  ten  thou- 
sand to  thirteen  thousand  feet  above  sea  level,  and  that 
of  the  region  fit  for  pasture  on  the  slopes  and  tops  of 
the  ridges  from  ten  thousand  to  fourteen  thousand 
feet  — the  snow  line  varying  from  fifteen  to  nineteen 
thousand.  As  these  slopes  give  pasture  to  llamas  and 


78 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


alpacas  and  sheep,  and  in  some  favoured  places  to 
cattle,  so  in  the  less  arid  and  less  sandy  tracts  of  the 
plateau  there  is  some  tillage.  But  the  parts  best  suited 
for  agriculture  are  to  be  found  in  the  valleys,  especially 
in  so  much  of  them  as  lies  between  ten  thousand  and 
four  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  for  below  five  thou- 
sand feet  their  conditions  become  tropical  and  resemble 
those  of  the  Amazonian  forests.  In  these  valleys  the 
soil,  especially  where  it  is  volcanic,  is  extremely  fertile, 
but  many  of  them  are  so  narrow  and  their  declivi- 
ties so  steep  that  cultivation  is  scarcely  possible. 
No  one  accordingly  who  has  studied  the  physical 
features  of  this  country  need  be  surprised  to  find  that 
while  the  total  area  of  Peru  is  about  seven  hundred 
thousand  square  miles,  its  population  is  estimated  at 
only  four  million  six  hundred  thousand.  He  may  in- 
deed be  more  surprised  at  the  accounts  which  Spanish 
historians  almost  contemporary  with  the  Conquest 
give  of  the  far  larger  population,  perhaps  ten  millions, 
that  existed  in  the  days  of  the  Incas.  The  great  falling 
off,  if  those  accounts  be  correct,  is  explicable  partly 
by  the  slaughter  perpetrated  by  the  first  Spaniards  and 
the  oppressions  practised  by  their  successors  during 
nearly  three  centuries,  partly  by  the  fact  that  districts 
near  the  coast  which  the  remains  of  irrigation  works 
shew  to  have  been  formerly  cultivated  are  now  sterile 
for  want  of  water. 

It  was  in  the  central  highlands,  at  an  altitude  of 
from  eight  thousand  feet  and  upwards  that  there  arose 
such  civilization  as  the  ancient  Peruvians  developed : 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  79 


and  its  origin  here  rather  than  elsewhere  in  South 
America  may  be  mainly  due  to  favourable  climatic 
conditions.  There  was  enough  rain  to  provide  grass 
for  animals  and  make  tillage  possible,  and  enough 
warmth  to  enable  men  to  live  in  health,  yet  not  enough 
either  of  rain  or  of  heat  to  make  nature  too  strong  for 
man  and  to  enfeeble  man’s  capacities  for  work. 

Temperature  and  rainfall  resembled  generally  those 
of  the  plateau  of  Mexico,  a region  somewhat  lower,  but 
farther  from  the  Equator : and  it  was  under  simi- 
larly fortunate  conditions  of  climate  and  agricultural 
possibilities  that  the  races  inhabiting  those  highlands 
had  made,  when  Europeans  arrived,  some  considerable 
advances  in  the  arts  of  life.  This  central  Peruvian 
area  is  to-day,  with  the  exception  of  the  irrigated  banks 
of  a few  streams  reaching  the  Pacific,  the  only  part  of 
the  country  where  either  an  agricultural  or  a pastoral 
population  can  support  itself.  The  rest  of  Peru  depends 
upon  its  mines,  chiefly  of  silver  and  copper,  — a source 
of  wealth  uncertain  at  best.  It  is  only  in  a few  valleys, 
the  most  productive  of  which  I am  going  to  describe, 
that  the  agricultural  population  occupies  any  large  con- 
tinuous area.  As  a rule  each  community  is  confined  to 
its  own  valley  and  cut  off  from  the  others  either  by 
mountains  or  by  high,  bare  ridges  on  which  only  sheep 
can  be  kept,  most  of  them  too  high  and  bleak  even  for 
pasture.1 

There  is  no  better  way  of  conveying  some  notion 

1 Paramo  is  the  name  applied  to  these  bleak  regions  between  the 
valleys. 


80 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  the  character  of  this  central  region,  the  true  Peru, 
than  by  describing  the  country  through  which  I passed 
by  railway  from  Arequipa  eastward  to  Lake  Titicaca 
and  thence  northward  to  Cuzco,  the  ancient  Inca  cap- 
ital. This  railroad  follows  the  line  of  the  most  impor- 
tant through  route  which  war  and  commerce  took  in 
pre-Conquest  times.  It  is  the  Southern  Railroad  of 
Peru,  the  main  highway  of  the  country.  The  section 
from  Mollendo  to  the  plateau  at  Juliaca  was  built 
many  years  ago,  but  the  extension  to  Cuzco  had  been 
completed  and  opened  less  than  a year  before  our  visit. 
Both  sections  have  been  constructed  by  engineers  from 
the  United  States,  and  the  way  in  which  the  difficulties 
of  extremely  steep  ascents  and  cuttings  along  precipitous 
slopes  have  been  overcome  reflects  great  credit  on  their 
skill.  The  gauge  is  the  normal  one.  The  line  is  owned 
by  the  Peruvian  Corporation,  a company  registered 
in  London,  and  under  the  energetic  management  of 
North  American  engineers  it  is  doing  a great  deal  to 
open  up  regions  in  which  till  some  ten  years  ago  there 
was  not  even  a road  fit  for  wheels.  The  passenger 
traffic  is  of  course  very  small,  and  passenger  trains  run 
only  once  a day  to  Arequipa  and  thrice  a week  to 
Juliaca  and  Cuzco. 

Quitting  Arequipa  on  the  south-western  side,  the  line 
winds  up  to  the  north  and  then  to  the  east  across  a 
rugged  and  dreary  region  of  rocky  hill  slopes,  pierced 
by  deep  gorges  through  some  of  which  brooks  come 
down,  fed  by  snow  beds  far  above.  It  follows  the  line 
of  a canyon,  and  wherever  there  is  level  ground  at  the 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  81 


bottom,  some  bright  green  strips  of  cultivation  appear 
on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  with  a few  Indian  huts ; 
so  even  these  upper  regions,  cold  and  desolate  as  they 
are,  are  not  so  wholly  desolate  as  the  Pampa  below. 
The  view  looking  back  over  the  city  lying  in  its 
green  oasis,  with  a stony  desert  all  round,  is  superb. 
As  we  climb  higher,  the  mass  of  Ampato  and  other 
giants  of  the  western  Cordillera  deep  with  snow, 
rise  in  the  northwest,  while  westward  one  sees  be- 
yond the  reddish  grey  mountains  through  which  we 
had  mounted  to  Arequipa  from  the  desert  Pampa, 
the  gleaming  sands  of  that  desert,  and  behind  them 
again,  just  on  the  horizon,  the  long,  low  bank  of  clouds 
that  covers  the  Coast  Range.  Here  at  nine  or  ten 
thousand  feet,  one  looks  over  the  white  upper  sur- 
face of  these  clouds.  Resting  on  the  western  edge  of 
the  Pampa,  they  stretch  far  out  over  the  Pacific  and 
veil  it  from  sight.  Thus  steadily  mounting,  and  seeing 
below  in  a ravine  the  hamlet  of  Yura,  where  is  a min- 
eral spring  whose  pleasantly  effervescent  water  is  drunk 
all  over  Peru,  the  train  winds  round  the  northern  flank 
of  Chachani  under  its  huge  black  precipices.  Behind 
it  and  behind  El  Misti,  which  shews  as  a symmetrical 
cone  on  this  side  as  well  as  on  that  turned  towards 
Arequipa,  we  entered  at  a height  of  about  eleven  thou- 
sand feet  a region  typical  of  the  Peruvian  uplands. 
There  was  plenty  of  coarse  grass,  studded  with  alpine 
flowers,  a few  belonging  to  European  genera.  Llamas 
and  alpacas  were  grazing  on  the  slopes,  herded  by 
Indians : there  were  sheep,  and  a few  cattle,  and  in 


82 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


one  place  we  thought  we  caught  sight  among  low  bushes 
of  a group  of  vicunas.  This  is  a creature  like  the  llama, 
but  smaller,  and  useless  as  a beast  of  burden,  because 
untameable.  It  roams  over  the  hills  between  eleven 
thousand  and  fifteen  thousand  feet,  and  produces  the 
finest  of  all  the  South  American  wools,  of  a delicate 
light  brown  tint,  silky  and  soft  as  the  fur  of  a chin- 
chilla. 

The  scenery  was  strange  and  wild,  not  without  a 
certain  sombre  grandeur.  Below  was  the  Chile  River, 
the  same  which  passes  Arequipa,  and  to  which  we  had 
returned  after  our  circuit  round  Chachani.  It  was 
flowing  in  a deep  channel  which  it  had  cut  out  for 
itself  between  walls  of  black  lava : and  the  wide  bare 
hollows  beyond  were  filled  with  old  lava  streams  and 
scattered  ridges  and  piles  of  rock.  To  the  southwest 
El  Misti  and  his  two  mighty  neighbours  shut  in  the 
valley,  and  away  to  the  south  huge  mountains, 
among  them  one  conspicuous  volcanic  cone,  were  dimly 
seen,  snowy  summits  mingled  with  the  gathering  clouds, 
for  at  this  height  rain  and  snow  showers  are  frequent. 
The  cone  was  probably  Ubinas,  the  only  active  volcano 
in  this  neighbourhood,  about  sixteen  thousand  feet 
high. 

Still  mounting  to  the  eastward,  the  line  rose  over 
gentler  slopes  to  a broad,  bleak,  and  wind-swept  ridge 
where  tiny  rivulets  welling  up  out  of  pools  in  the 
yellowish  grass  were  flowing  west  to  the  Pacific  and 
eastward  to  the  inland  basin  of  Lake  Titicaca.  Large 
white  birds  like  wild  geese  were  fluttering  over  us. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  83 


Here  were  a few  huts  of  the  Indian  shepherds  near  the 
buildings  of  the  station ; and  here  a cross  marked  the 
Cumbre  or  top  of  the  pass,  which  is  called  the  Crucero 
Alto,  14,666  feet  above  sea  level.  Higher  ground  cut 
off  the  view  to  the  north  and  clouds  obscured  the  view  to 
the  east,  but  to  the  south  we  could  discern  some  of  the 
lofty  summits  of  the  western  Cordillera  on  the  watershed 
of  which  we  stood.  Thunderstorms  were  growling  on 
both  sides,  and  out  of  black  clouds  far  in  the  northwest 
towards  Coropuna  came  bright  flashes  of  chain  lightning. 
At  this  height  the  country  is  comparatively  open  and  the 
valleys  shallow,  and  this,  along  with  the  wonderful  clear- 
ness of  the  air,  enables  the  eye  to  range  to  a vast  distance. 
This  northwestern  thunderstorm  which  we  were  watch- 
ing was  possibly  a hundred  miles  away.  We  were  awed 
by  the  mere  vastness  of  the  landscape,  in  which  we 
looked  over  tracts  it  would  take  many  days’  journeys  to 
traverse,  and  saw  mountains  eighteen  thousand  feet 
high  separated  by  nameless  valleys  no  one  ever  enters, 
with  hills  and  rocks  tumbled  about  in  chaotic  confusion, 
as  though  the  work  of  world-shaping  had  here  just  be- 
gun. Stepping  out  into  the  bitter  wind,  we  walked 
about  awaiting  signs  of  the  Soroche  or  mountain  sick- 
ness so  much  dreaded  by  Andean  travellers,  especially 
when  they  come  straight  up  from  the  coast  to  this  vast 
height,  as  high  as  the  Matterhorn  or  the  highest  peaks 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  The  air  was'  very  cold  and 
very  thin,  seeming  not  to  fill  the  lungs.  But  nothing 
happened. 

From  the  Crucero  Alto  the  railway  descends  rapidly 


84 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


for  two  thousand  feet  past  two  large  lakes,  embosomed 
in  steep  green  hills  — they  reminded  me  of  Loch  Garve 
in  Ross-shire  — till  it  reaches  a wide,  bare,  desolate  flat, 
evidently  part  of  the  former  bed  of  Lake  Titicaca,  which 
was  once  far  larger  than  it  is  to-day.  Here  we  were  in 
that  central  plateau  which  the  people  call  the  Puno  and 
which  surrounds  the  lake,  its  lower  part  cultivated  and 
peopled.  At  the  large  village  of  Juliaca,  whence  a branch 
line  runs  to  the  port  of  Puno  on  the  lake  farther  to  the 
southeast,  the  main  line  turns  off  to  the  north,  still  over 
the  flat  land  which,  wThere  not  too  marshy,  is  under  til- 
lage. The  inhabitants  were  all  Indians,  and  only  at 
Tirapata,  which  is  a point  of  supply  for  the  mines  on  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  mountains,  were  white  people  to  be 
seen.  Far  to  the  northeast,  perhaps  one  hundred  miles 
away,  could  be  discerned  a serrated  line  of  snowy  moun- 
tains, part  of  the  eastern  Cordillera  which  divides  the 
Titicaca  basin  from  the  Amazonian  valleys.  At  last 
the  hills  begin  to  close  in  and  the  plain  becomes  a valley, 
narrowing  as  we  travel  farther  north  till,  at  a sharp 
bend  in  the  valley  which  opens  out  a new  landscape, 
we  pass  under  a rock  tower  sixteen  thousand  feet 
high,  like  one  of  the  aiguilles  of  Mont  Blanc  immensely 
magnified,  and  see  in  front  of  us  a magnificent  moun- 
tain mass  streaming  with  glaciers.  Two  great  peaks 
of  from  eighteen  thousand  to  nineteen  thousand  feet  are 
visible  on  this  side,  the  easternmost  one  a long  snow 
ridge  resembling  the  Lyskamm  above  Zermatt ; and 
behind  it  there  appears  a still  loftier  one  which  may 
approach  or  exceed  twenty  thousand  feet.  This  is 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  85 


the  Sierra  of  Vilcanota,  the  central  knot  of  the  moun- 
tain system  of  Peru,  as  in  it  branches  of  the  western 
inosculate  with  those  of  the  eastern  Cordillera.  Though 
very  steep,  the  highest  peaks  seemed  to  me,  surveying 
them  from  a distance  of  fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  to  offer 
no  great  difficulties  to  an  active  and  experienced  climber, 
apart  of  course  from  the  rarity  of  the  air  at  this  immense 
height,  a difficulty  which,  while  negligible  by  many,  is 
serious  to  some  otherwise  excellent  mountaineers.  The 
fact  that  the  railroad  passes  close  to  these  splendid 
summits  gives  unusual  facilities  for  an  assault  on  them, 
since  the  transportation  of  warm  night  coverings  and  of 
food  is  one  of  the  chief  difficulties  in  a cold  and  thinly 
peopled  region.  As  none  of  the  tops  seems  to  have  been 
yet  scaled,  they  deserve  the  attention  of  aspiring  alpin- 
ists. 

Above  the  village  of  Santa  Rosa  the  valley  is  unin- 
habited, a deep,  grassy  hollow  between  the  Vilcanota 
group  of  peaks  on  the  east  and  a lower  though  lofty 
range  on  the  west,  with  piles  of  stones  at  intervals,  and 
now  and  then  we  met  or  passed  a string  of  llamas  carry- 
ing their  loads,  for  the  railway  has  not  wholly  super- 
seded the  ancient  modes  of  transportation. 

Just  at  the  very  highest  point  of  the  col  or  pass  of 
La  Raya  14,518  feet  above  sea-level,  in  which  the  valley 
ends,  the  westernmost  of  these  Vilcanota  peaks  is  visible 
on  the  east  behind  a deep  gorge,  the  upper  part  of 
which  is  filled  by  a glacier.  From  this  glacier  there 
descends  a torrent  which  on  the  level  top  of  the  pass 
spreads  out  into  a small  shallow  marsh  or  lake  which 


86 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  Peruvians  held  sacred  as  the  source  of  the  sacred 
river  Vilcamayu : and  from  this  lake  the  water  flows 
partly  south  into  Lake  Titicaca,  partly  north  into  the 
Amazon  and  the  Atlantic.  Here  indeed  we  were  looking 
upon  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  that  gigantic  stream,  for 
of  all  the  rivers  that  join  to  make  the  Amazon  this  is 
among  the  longest.  During  its  course  till  it  meets  the 
river  Maranon,  it  is  called  first  Vilcamayu,  then  Uru- 
bamba,  and  finally  Ucayali.  The  pass  itself,  a broad 
smooth  saddle  not  unlike,  if  one  may  compare  great 
things  with  small,  the  glen  and  watershed  between 
Dalnaspidal  and  Dalwhinnie  which  marks  the  summit 
level  of  the  Highland  Railway  in  ^Scotland,  has  no  small 
historic  interest,  for  it  has  been  a highway  for  armies  as 
well  as  for  commerce  from  the  remotest  times.  The  an- 
cient track  from  Cuzco  to  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
Inca  empire  in  Chile  passed  over  it.  By  it  the  Spanish 
Conquistadores  went  backward  and  forward  in  their 
campaign  of  subjugation  and  in  the  fierce  struggles 
among  themselves  which  followed,  nor  was  it  less  im- 
portant in  the  War  of  Independence  a century  ago. 
Till  the  railway  was  recently  opened,  thousands  of 
llamas  bearing  goods  traversed  it  every  year.  What 
one  now  sees  is  nothing  more  than  a fairly  well-beaten 
mule  track,  and  I could  neither  discern  any  traces  nor 
learn  that  traces  have  been  discovered  either  of  the  wall 
which  the  Inca  rulers  are  said  to  have  built  across  it 
as  a defence  from  the  Collao  tribes  to  the  south,  or  of 
the  paved  road  which,  as  the  old  writers  say,  they  con- 
structed to  connect  Cuzco  with  the  southern  provinces. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  87 


Were  such  a spot  in  Switzerland  or  Tyrol,  its  lonely 
beauty  would  be  broken  by  a summer  hotel  for  health- 
seeking tourists ; nor  could  one  imagine  a keener  and 
more  delicious  air  than  this,  though  people  with  weak 
hearts  might  find  it  trying.  As  soon  as  we  had  got  a 
little  way  down  from  the  top,  the  lungs  began  to  feel 
easier,  for  the  denser  and  warmer  air  of  its  lower 
levels  comes  up  on  the  northerly  wind  which  we  met 
in  descending.  The  valley,  still  smooth  and  grassy, 
sinks  rapidly  and  in  an  hour  or  two  we  had  entered 
a climate  quite  different  from  that  of  the  Titicaca  pla- 
teau to  the  south.  After  some  six  or  eight  miles  a 
place  is  reached  called  Aguas  Calientes  (Hot  Waters), 
from  the  numerous  mineral  springs  which  bubble  up 
close  together  from  the  ground,  most  of  them  too  hot 
to  taste,  and  all  impregnated  with  iron  and  sulphur. 
They  are  said  to  be  valuable  in  various  maladies,  and 
in  France  or  Switzerland  an  Etablissement  des  Bains 
would  doubtless  have  arisen  to  enclose  and  exploit  them. 
As  it  is,  the  only  sign  that  they  are  used  is  a wooden 
hut  erected  over  one  of  the  springs  in  which  the  station 
master  cures  himself  of  rheumatism.  There  are  only 
two  houses  besides  the  station,  but  on  the  hill  above 
mines  of  copper  and  antimony  are  worked  by  Indian 
labour. 

Below  this  point  the  floor  of  the  valley  falls  again. 
It  is  still  narrow,  but  the  now  warmer  climate  permits 
tillage,  and  the  patient  toil  of  the  Indians,  turning  every 
bit  of  ground  to  account,  cultivates  fields  of  grain  and  po- 
tatoes sloping  at  an  angle  so  steep  that  ploughing  or  hoe- 


88 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ing  seems  almost  impossible.  When  one  asks  how 
this  happens,  the  answer  is  that  the  rapacity  of  law- 
yers, ousting  the  Indian  from  the  better  lands  below, 
drives  him  to  these  less  productive  slopes.  The  hill- 
sides are  extraordinarily  bare,  but  as  fruit  trees  appear 
round  the  cottages,  this  may  be  due  not  to  the  altitude, 
but  to  the  cutting  down  during  many  centuries  of  all 
other  trees  for  fuel.  Never  have  I seen  an  inhabited 
region  — and  in  the  case  of  this  particular  valley,  a 
thickly  inhabited  region  — so  absolutely  devoid  of  wood 
as  is  Peru.  Even  in  Inca  days,  timber  seems  to  have 
been  very  scarce.  There  is  plenty  to  be  had  from  the 
tropical  forests  lower  down,  but  the  cost  of  carrying 
logs  up  from  them  upon  mule-back  is  practically  pro- 
hibitive. A good,  solid  plank  would  be  a load  too 
heavy  for  a llama. 

Twenty  miles  below  the  pass  of  La  Raya  is  the  town 
of  Sicuani,  which  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  see  on 
the  market  day  — Sunday  — when  the  Indians  from 
many  miles  round  come  to  sell  and  buy  and  enjoy  them- 
selves. It  is  a good  type  of  the  well-to-do  Peruvian 
village,  the  surrounding  country  being  fertile  and  popu- 
lous. The  better  houses,  a few  of  them  two  storied,  are  of 
stone,  the  rest  of  sun-dried  mud  — that  adobe  which  one 
finds  all  over  Spanish  America  from  the  pueblos  of  New 
Mexico  down  to  Patagonia.  Their  fronts  are  covered 
with  a wash  of  white  or  light  blue,  and  this,  with  the 
red-tiled  roofs,  gives  a pleasant  freshness  and  warmth 
of  tone.  The  two  plazas  whose  joint  area  is  about 
equal  to  hah  of  the  whole  town,  are  thronged  with 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  89 


Indians,  all  the  men  and  many  of  the  women  wearing 
the  characteristic  poncho,  a rough  woollen  or,  less  often, 
cotton  cloak  which  comes  below  the  waist,  and  is  usu- 
ally of  some  bright  hue.  To  this  the  women  add  gaudy 
petticoats,  red  or  purplish,  blue  or  green  or  violet, 
so  that  there  is  even  more  colour  in  the  crowd  than 
on  the  houses.  The  greatest  variety  is  in  the  hats. 
The  women  wear  round  felts  or  cloth-covered  straws, 
some  almost  as  wide  as  a cardinal’s ; many  are  square, 
set  off  by  gilt  or  silvered  bands  like  the  academic 
cap  of  the  English  Universities,  though  the  brim  is 
larger.  The  man’s  hat  is  smaller ; it  is  mostly  of  stiff  white 
felt,  and  underneath  it  is  a tight  fitting  cloth  cap  of  some 
bright  colour,  usually  red,  with  flaps  at  each  side  to 
protect  the  ear  and  cheek  from  the  piercing  winds. 
Strings  of  glittering  beads  complete  the  Sunday  dress 
of  the  women,  and  we  saw  only  a few  with  silver  orna- 
ments. Most  of  the  trading  seemed  to  be  done  by  bar- 
ter, country  folk  exchanging  farm  or  garden  produce 
with  the  town  dealers  for  groceries  or  cloth.  The  cotton 
cloths  were  largely  made  from  the  Peruvian  plant  culti- 
vated in  the  warm  coast  valleys,  while  some  of  the  wool- 
len goods,  such  as  blankets  or  stuff  for  petticoats,  had 
come  from  England,  as  I saw  on  them  the  names  of 
Yorkshire  firms.  Besides  maize  and  nuts  and  peppers, 
together  with  oranges  carried  up  from  the  hot  valley  of 
Urubamba  seventy  miles  to  the  north,  the  most  notice- 
able articles  of  commerce  were  a sort  of  edible  seaweed 
brought  from  the  coast,  and  dried  marine  star-fishes, 
and,  above  all,  small  bags  of  coca  leaves,  the  article  which 


90 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


is  the  one  indispensable  stimulant  of  the  Indian,  more 
for  him  than  tea  or  coffee  or  alcoholic  drinks  are  for  the 
Asiatic  or  the  European.  It  is  a subtropical  shrub  or 
low  tree  which  grows  on  the  lower  slopes  of  the  Peruvian 
and  Bolivian  Andes  and  is  sold  to  the  Indians  in  small 
quantities,  as  indeed  all  the  sales  and  purchases  seemed 
to  be  on  a small  scale,  there  being  among  the  peasants 
very  little  money  though  very  little  downright  poverty. 
South  American  countries  are,  for  the  traveller  at  least, 
a land  of  high  prices,  but  here  we  saw  savoury  messes 
of  hot  stewed  meat  with  chopped  onions  and  potatoes 
and  a small  glass  of  chicha  (the  common  drink  of  the 
country  brewed  from  maize),  thrown  in,  offered  at  the 
price  of  five  centavos,  less  than  two  English  pence  or 
a United  States  five  cent  piece.  It  was  surprising 
that  in  so  thick  and  busy  a crowd  there  should  be, 
instead  of  the  chattering  and  clattering  that  one  would 
have  heard  in  Europe,  only  a steady  hum.  The  Quichua 
Indians  are  a comparatively  silent  race,  quiet  and  well 
mannered,  and  inoffensive  except  when  they  are  drunk. 
These  Sicuani  people  were  small  in  stature,  few  ex- 
ceeding five  feet  six  inches,  their  faces  a reddish  brown, 
the  features  regular  though  seldom  handsome,  for  while 
the  nose  is  often  well  formed,  the  mouth  is  ugly,  with 
no  fineness  of  line  in  the  lips,  although  these  are  far  less 
thick  than  a negro’s.  Some  have  a slight  moustache, 
but  beards  are  seen  only  on  the  mestizos  (half  breeds). 
Among  the  many  diversities  of  feature  which  suggest 
that  there  has  been  an  intermixture  of  races,  perhaps 
long  ago,  there  are  two  prevailing  types  — the  broad, 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  91 


round,  short  face  with  full  cheeks,  and  the  longer  face 
with  an  aquiline  nose.  All  have  dark  brown  or  black 
eyes,  and  long,  straight,  black,  rather  coarse,  hair,  and 
in  all  there  is  a curiously  stolid  and  impassive  look  as 
of  men  accustomed  to  centuries  of  monotony  and  sub- 
mission. Impassiveness  is  the  characteristic  note  of 
the  Indian.  The  Kafir  is  like  a grown-up  child ; the 
Chinese  have  a curious  quiet  alertness  and  keenness  of 
observation ; the  Hindus  (and  most  Orientals)  are  sub- 
missive though  watchful  as  if  trying  to  take  the  white 
man’s  measure  : but  the  Indian  is  none  of  these  things. 
In  his  obedience  there  is  no  servility : he  is  reserved,  aloof, 
seemingly  indifferent  to  the  Viracocha 1 and  to  things 
in  general.  The  most  noticeable  in  the  throng  were 
the  Indian  village  alcaldes,  each  carrying  as  the  badge 
of  his  office  a long,  heavy  staff  or  cane,  with  a spike  at 
the  bottom  and  a large  round  head,  bound  with  silver 
bands  and  covered  at  the  top  with  a silver  casing.  This 
dignitary,  appointed  by  the  local  authority  annually, 
exerts  in  his  little  community  an  undisputed  sway,  en- 
forced by  his  power  of  imprisonment.  The  post  is  eagerly 
sought,  so  that  the  wealthier  sort  will  offer  money  to  ob- 
tain it.  We  saw  them  moving  through  the  crowd,  all 
making  way  for  them.  There  were,  however,  no  dis- 
turbances to  quell : the  bright  sun  shone  on  an  orderly 
and  good-humoured  crowd.  Some  groups,  drawn  a little 
apart,  were  enjoying  the  strains  of  a guitar  or  an  ac- 

1 This  is  the  term  of  respect  by  which  an  Indian  usually  addresses 
a white  man  of  superior  station.  The  word  was  in  Inca  mythology 
the  name  of  a divine  or  half-divine  hero  — it  was  also  the  name  of 
one  of  the  Inca  sovereigns. 


92 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


cordion  or  those  of  the  true  national  instrument,  the 
Pandean  pipe  made  of  hollow  reeds  unequal  in  length, 
while  above,  on  the  hillside,  the  donkeys  on  which  the 
wealthier  peasants  had  ridden  in  and  the  llamas  that 
had  carried  their  produce  stood  patiently  awaiting  the 
declining  light  that  should  turn  them  homeward. 

The  only  point  of  interest  in  Sicuani  is  the  church 
and  the  arched  gateway  beside  it.  It  is  like  any  other 
village  church,  the  architecture  dull,  the  interior 
gloomy.  But  it  was  in  this  church  that  in  1782  Andres 
the  nephew  of  Tupac  Amaru,  half  of  Spanish  Biscayan, 
half  of  Inca  blood,  received  episcopal  absolution  for  his 
share  in  the  great  insurrection  of  the  Indians  under  that 
chieftain,  an  absolution  to  be  shortly  followed  by  his  mur- 
der at  the  hands  of  perfidious  Spaniards;  and  it  was  on 
this  arch  (if  the  story  we  heard  be  true)  that  some  of  the 
limbs  of  the  unfortunate  Tupac  Amaru  himself  were 
exposed  after  he  had  been  torn  in  pieces  by  four  horses 
in  the  great  square  of  Cuzco. 

The  valley  of  the  Vilcamayu  River  below  Sicuani 
unfolds  scene  after  scene  of  varied  beauty.  It  is  indeed 
even  more  bare  of  wood  than  those  valleys  of  the  central 
Apennines,  of  which,  allowing  for  the  difference  of  scale, 
it  sometimes  reminds  one.  The  only  tall  tree  is  the 
Australian  Eucalyptus,  which  though  only  recently  intro- 
duced, is  now  common  in  the  subtropical  parts  of  South 
America,  and  already  makes  a figure  in  the  landscape,  for 
it  is  a fast  grower.  These  Australian  gum  trees  have 
now  overspread  the  world.  They  are  all  over  South 
Africa  and  on  the  Mediterranean  coasts,  as  well  as  in 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  93 


Mexico  and  on  the  Nilghiri  hills  of  southern  India, 
where  they  have  replaced  the  more  beautiful  native 
groves. 

In  the  wider  and  more  level  stretches  of  the  valley, 
populous  villages  he  near  together,  for  the  irrigated  flats 
of  the  valley  floor  flourish  with  abundant  crops,  and 
the  rich  red  soil  makes  the  hillsides  worth  cultivating 
even  without  irrigation.  Although  stained  by  the  blood 
of  battles  more  than  is  any  other  part  of  Peru,  the  land 
has  an  air  of  peace  and  comfort.  The  mountains  on 
each  side  seemed  to  be  composed  of  igneous  rocks,  but 
only  in  one  place  could  I discover  evidences  of  recent 
volcanic  action.  About  fifteen  miles  below  Sicuani  six 
or  seven  small  craters  are  seen  near  together,  most  of 
them  on  the  northeast  side  of  the  valley,  the  highest 
some  twelve  hundred  feet  above  it ; and  the  lava  flows 
which  have  issued  from  two  or  three  of  these  are  so 
fresh,  the  surface  still  so  rugged  and  of  so  deep  a black, 
that  one  may  conclude  that  not  many  centuries  have 
elapsed  since  the  last  eruption.  The  higher  ranges  that 
enclose  the  valley,  crags  above  and  curving  lines  of 
singular  beauty  below,  evidently  belong  to  a more 
remote  geological  age.  Their  contrasts  of  dark  rock 
and  red  soil,  with  the  flat  smiling  valley  between  and 
the  noble  snow  peaks  of  the  Vilcanota  group  filling  the 
southern  distance,  make  landscapes  comparable  in  their 
warmth  of  colour  and  variety  of  form  to  those  of  the 
Italian  Alps.  They  are  doubly  delightful  to  the  traveller 
who  has  been  passing  through  the  savage  solitudes  that 
lie  between  this  and  the  Pacific  coast.  Here  at  last 


94 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


he  seems  to  get  a notion  of  what  Peru  may  have  been 
like  before  the  invaders  came,  and  when  a peaceful 
and  industrious  people  laboured  in  the  service  of  the  Inca 
and  the  Sun  God.  Now,  to  be  sure,  there  is  a rail- 
way, and  the  station  houses  are  roofed  with  corrugated 
iron.  Yet  the  aspect  of  the  land  can  have  changed  but 
little.  The  inhabitants  are  almost  all  Indian,  and  live 
and  cultivate  much  as  they  did  four  centuries  ago;  their 
villages  are  of  the  same  mud-built,  grass-roofed  cottages. 
They  walk  behind  their  llamas  along  the  track,  playing 
a rustic  pipe  as  they  go;  and  the  women  wash  clothes 
in  the  brook  swollen  by  last  night’s  rain ; and  up  the  side 
glens  which  descend  from  the  untrodden  snowy  range  be- 
hind, one  catches  glimpses  of  high,  steep  pastures,  where 
perhaps  hardly  even  a plundering  Spaniard  ever  set  his 
foot  and  where  no  extortionate  curate  preyed  upon  his 
flock. 

Swinging  down  the  long  canyon  of  the  Vilcamayu  — 
it  is  long,  indeed,  for  there  are  four  hundred  miles  more 
of  it  before  it  opens  on  the  great  Amazonian  plain  — 
and  rattling  through  deep  rock  cuttings  and  round 
sharp  curves  above  the  foaming  torrent,  the  line  at 
last  turns  suddenly  to  the  northwest  towards  Cuzco, 
and  we  bid  farewell  to  the  river.  Gladly  would  we  have 
followed  it  down  the  valley  into  scenery  even  more 
beautiful  than  that  of  its  upper  levels,  where  luxuriant 
forests  along  the  stream  contrast  with  the  snowy 
summits  of  the  Eastern  Cordillera  towering  above.  But 
from  this  point  on  there  are  only  mule  paths,  and  travel 
is  so  slow  that  a week  would  have  been  needed  to  reach 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  95 


the  finest  part  of  this  scenery.1  Renunciation  is  the 
hardest  part  of  travelling. 

Our  way  to  Cuzco  lay  up  a wide  lateral  valley,  enclosed 
by  green  hills,  well  cultivated  and  studded  with  populous 
villages,  near  one  of  which  can  be  descried  the  ruins  of  a 
large  ancient  building  which  tradition  attributes  to  the 
Inca  Viracocha.  The  vale  has  an  air  of  peace  and  prim- 
itive quiet,  secluded  and  remote,  as  of  a peaceful  land 
where  nothing  had  ever  happened.  At  last,  as  the  moun- 
tains begin  to  close  in,  the  end  of  the  journey  comes  in 
sight;  and  here,  under  steep  hills  enclosing  a basin- 
shaped hollow  — what  in  Peru  is  called  a Bolson  — 
lies  Cuzco,  the  sacred  City  of  the  Sun. 

Cuzco  belongs  to  that  class  of  historic  cities  which 
have  once  been  capitals  of  kingdoms  and  retain  traces 
of  their  ancient  glory,  a class  which  includes  Moscow 
and  Krakau,  Throndhjem  and  Upsala,  Dublin  and 
Edinburgh  and  Winchester,  Aix  la  Chapelle  and  Bagdad 
and  Toledo  and  Granada,  a class  from  which  imperial 
Delhi  has  now  just  emerged  to  recover  its  former  rank. 
And  Cuzco  was  the  capital  of  an  empire  vaster  than 
was  ruled  from  any  of  those  famous  seats  of  power, 
the  centre  of  a religion  and  a dominion  which  stretched 
southward  from  the  Equator  for  two  thousand  miles 
and  embraced  nearly  all  that  there  was  of  whatever 
approached  civilization  in  the  South  American  Continent. 

Every  traveller  is  familiar  with  the  experience  of 
finding  that  the  reality  of  some  spot  on  which  his  imag- 

1 Above  this  valley,  nearly  a hundred  miles  away  to  the  northeast, 
rises  the  splendid  peak  of  Salcantay,  whose  height,  said  to  approach 
22,000  feet,  will  some  day  attract  an  aspiring  mountain  climber. 


96 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ination  has  dwelt  is  unlike  what  it  had  pictured.  I 
had  fancied  a walled  city  visible  from  afar  on  a high 
plain,  with  a solitary  citadel  hill  towering  above  it. 
But  Cuzco  lies  inconspicuous,  with  its  houses  huddled 
close  in  its  bolson  at  a point  where  three  narrow  glens 
descend  from  the  tableland  above,  their  torrents  meeting 
in  it  or  just  below  it ; and  no  buildings  are  seen,  except 
a few  square  church  towers,  till  you  are  at  its  gates. 
It  stands  on  a gentle  slope,  the  streets  straight,  except 
where  the  course  of  a torrent  forces  them  to  curve,  and 
many  of  them  too  narrow  for  vehicles  to  pass  one  an- 
other, but  vehicles  are  so  few  that  this  does  not  matter. 
They  are  paved  with  cobble  stones  so  large  and  rough 
that  the  bed  of  many  a mountain  brook  is  smoother, 
and  in  the  middle  there  is  an  open  gutter  into  which 
every  kind  of  filth  is  thrown,  so  that  the  city  from  end 
to  end  is  filled  with  smells  too  horrible  for  description. 
Cologne,  as  Coleridge  described  it  a century  ago,  and 
the  most  fetid  cities  of  Southern  Italy  are  fragrant  in 
comparison.  The  houses,  solidly  built  of  stone,  are  en- 
closed in  small,  square  court  yards  surrounded  by  rude 
wooden  galleries.  Many  have  two  stories,  with  bal- 
conies also  of  wood  in  front,  and  a few  shew  handsome 
gateways,  with  the  arms  of  some  Spanish  family  carved 
on  the  lintel  stone.  One  such  bears  the  effigies  of  the 
four  Pizarro  brothers,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been 
inhabited  by  the  terrible  Francisco  himself  when  he 
lived  here.  But  the  impressive  features  of  the  city  are  its 
squares.  The  great  Plaza,  a part  of  the  immense  open 
space  which  occupied  the  centre  of  the  ancient  Inca  town, 
wants  the  trees  and  flower  beds  of  the  squares  of  Lima 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  97 


and  Arequipa.  But  its  ample  proportions,  with  three 
remarkable  churches  occupying  two  sides  of  it,  and  the 
fortress  hill  of  Sacsahuaman  frowning  over  it,  give  it 
an  air  of  dignity.  The  two  smaller  plazas,  that  called 
Cusipata  and  that  of  San  Francisco,  are  less  regular, 
but  rudely  picturesque,  with  arcades  on  two  sides  of 
them,  and  quaint  old  houses  of  varying  heights,  painted 
in  blue,  and  bearing  in  front  balconies  frail  with  age. 
The  older  Spanish  colonial  towns,  inferior  as  they  are  in 
refinements  of  architectural  detail  to  the  ancient  cities 
of  Italy  and  Spain,  have  nevertheless  for  us  a certain 
charm  of  strangeness,  intensified,  in  the  case  of  Cuzco, 
by  the  sense  of  all  the  changes  they  have  witnessed. 

The  cathedral,  if  not  beautiful,  is  stately,  with  its 
two  solid  towers  and  its  spacious  and  solemn  interior. 
One  is  shewn  a picture  attributed  to  Van  Dyck — be  it 
his  or  not  it  is  a good  picture  — and  an  altar  at  which 
Pizarro  communicated,  and  a curious  painting  represent- 
ing ceremonies  observed  on  the  admission  of  monks  and 
nuns  in  the  seventeenth  century.  But  what  interested 
me  most  was  a portrait  in  the  sacristy,  among  those  of 
other  bishops  of  Cuzco,  of  the  first  bishop,  Fray  Vicente 
de  Valverde.  It  may  be  merely  a “stock”  picture, 
made  to  order  at  a later  time  like  those  of  the  early 
Popes  in  the  basilica  of  St.  Paul  at  Rome.  But  one 
willingly  supposed  it  taken  from  the  life,  because  the 
hard,  square  face  with  pitiless  eyes  answered  to  the  char- 
acter of  the  man,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  persons 
in  the  history  of  the  Spanish  Conquest,  because  he  is  as 
perfect  an  illustration  as  history  presents  of  a minister 
of  Christ  in  whom  every  lineament  of  Christian  character, 


98 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


except  devotion  to  his  faith,  had  been  effaced.1  He  was 
the  friar  who  accompanied  Pizarro  on  his  expedition 
and  stood  by  the  leader’s  side  in  the  square  at  Caxa- 
marca  when  he  was  welcoming  as  a friend  the  Inca 
Atahuallpa.  When  Atahuallpa  declined  the  summons 
of  Val verde  to  accept  baptism  and  recognize  Charles 
the  Fifth  as  sovereign,  Pizarro,  whose  men  were  fully 
armed,  and  had  already  been  instructed  to  seize  the 
unsuspecting  Inca  and  massacre  his  followers,  hesitated 
or  affected  for  a moment  to  hesitate,  and  turned  to 
Val  verde  for  advice.  “I  absolve  you,”  answered  the 
friar.  “Fall  on,  Castilians,  I absolve  you.”  With  this 
the  slaughter  of  the  astonished  crowd  began : and 
thousands  perished  in  the  city  square  before  night 
descended  on  the  butchery. 

When  Cuzco  was  taken,  Valverde  was  made  bishop 
of  the  new  see,  the  first  bishopric  of  Peru.  Verily  he 
had  his  reward.  He  did  not  long  enjoy  it.  A few  years 
later  he  was  shipwrecked,  while  voyaging  to  Panama, 
on  the  coast  near  Tumbez,  captured  by  the  wild  Indians 
of  those  parts,  and  (according  to  the  story)  devoured. 

Of  the  other  churches,  the  most  externally  handsome 
is  that  of  the  Compania  (the  Jesuits),  with  its  florid 
north  fagade  of  red  sandstone,  a piece  of  cunningly  con- 
ceived and  finely  executed  ornamentation  superior 
even  to  that  of  the  church  of  the  same  Order  at  Arequipa. 
Internally  there  is  most  to  admire  in  the  church  of 

1 It  is  fair  to  say  that  when  the  conquest  was  once  accomplished, 
Valverde  seems  to  have  protested  against  the  reduction  of  the  In- 
dians to  slavery. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  99 


Merced  (Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  the  patroness  of  Peru), 
for  it  has  richly  decorated  ceilings  on  both  stories  of 
its  charming  cloisters,  and  a fine  staircase  leading  up  to 
the  choir.  All  the  larger  churches  have  silver  altars, 
some  of  them  very  well  chiselled.  But  by  far  the  most 
remarkable  piece  of  work  in  the  city  is  the  pulpit  of 
the  old  and  now  scarcely  used  church  of  San  Bias.  It 
is  said  to  be  all  of  one  piece,  the  glory  of  an  Indian 
craftsman,  and  is  a marvel  of  delicate  carving,  worthy 
of  the  best  executive  skill  of  Italy  or  Spain.  My  scanty 
knowledge  does  not  qualify  me  to  express  an  opinion, 
but  it  was  hard  not  to  fancy  that  in  this  pulpit  and  in 
the  fine  ornamentation  of  the  fagades  of  the  Jesuit 
churches  I have  described,  there  may  be  discovered 
marks  of  a distinctive  type  of  artistic  invention  which 
was  not  Spanish,  but  rather  Peruvian,  and  gave  evidence 
of  a gift  which  might,  if  cultivated,  have  reflected  credit 
upon  the  Indian  race. 

It  has  seemed  worth  while  to  dwell  upon  the  eccle- 
siastical buildings  of  these  three  Peruvian  cities  just 
because  there  is  so  very  little  to  attract  the  student 
of  art  in  South  America,  less  even  than  in  Mexico. 
Though  the  two  greatest  Spanish  painters  lived  after 
the  days  of  Pizarro,  one  may  say,  broadly  speaking, 
that  the  best  days  of  Spanish  architecture  and  of  taste 
in  works  of  art  were  passing  away  before  these  American 
countries  were  settled,  and  it  was  seldom  that  any- 
thing of  high  excellence  was  either  brought  from  Europe 
or  produced  in  South  America,  produced  even  in  Peru, 
the  wealthiest  of  all  the  colonial  dominions  of  Spain. 


100 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Before  I turn  from  Spanish  Cuzco  to  the  ancient 
city  a word  may  be  said  as  to  its  merits  as  a place  of 
residence.  Its  height  (11,100  feet)  and  its  latitude 
give  it  a climate  free  from  extremes  of  heat  or  cold, 
and,  for  those  who  have  capacious  lungs  and  sound 
hearts,  pretty  healthful  throughout  the  year.  We  found 
the  air  cool  and  bracing  in  the  end  of  September. 
Disgusting  as  are  the  dirt  and  the  smells,  they  do 
not  seem  to  breed  much  disease ; foul  gases  are  prob- 
ably less  noxious  when  discharged  into  the  open  air  than 
when  they  ooze  out  into  houses  from  closed  drains.1 
The  country  round  is  beautiful,  bold  heights  surrounding 
a green  and  fertile  vale,  though  there  are  so  few  trees 
that  shade  is  wanting.  Many  places  of  great  antiqua- 
rian interest  are  within  reach,  of  course  accessible  by 
riding  only,  for  there  is  only  one  tolerable  road,  that 
which  leads  down  the  valley  to  the  Vilcamayu.  Society, 
though  small  and  old-fashioned,  unfriendly  to  new  ideas 
and  tinged  with  ecclesiasticism,  is  simple  mannered  and 
kindly.  No  people  can  be  more  polite  and  agreeable 
than  the  Peruvians,  whether  of  pure  Spanish  extraction, 
or  mixed,  as  the  great  majority  here  are,  with  Indian 
blood.  Though  Cuzco  is  deemed,  not  less  than  Are- 
quipa,  a stronghold  of  conservatism  and  clericalism, 
modern  tendencies  can  make  themselves  felt.  Shortly 
before  my  visit  there  had  been  a revolt  of  the  students 
of  the  University  against  a rector  deemed  “unpro- 

1 While  these  pages  are  passing  through  the  press  (April,  1912), 
I am  informed  that  a serious  effort  is  about  to  be  made  to  lay  drains 
in  and  generally  to  clean  up  Cuzco. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  101 


gressive”  : and  there  had  been  chosen  as  his  successor 
a young  North  American  professor  who  had  been  living 
in  Peru  for  a few  years  only,  employed  in  some  govern- 
ment work  when  he  was  appointed  here.  He  seemed 
to  be  on  good  terms  with  both  officials  and  pupils. 

The  university  is  an  old  one,  founded  in  1598,  but 
its  revenues  and  the  attendance  of  students  are  not 
worthy  of  its  antiquity.  Those  who  come  seek  im 
struction  in  professional  subjects,  especially  law  and 
medicine.  Nearly  everywhere  in  South  America  the 
demand  for  teaching  in  philosophy,  letters,  or  science  is 
scanty  indeed.  The  clergy,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  are 
not  educated  in  these  lay  institutions. 

Though  essentially  a Spanish  city  in  its  edifices, 
Cuzco  is  predominantly  Indian  in  its  people.  The 
Quichua  language  is  that  commonly  spoken,  and  it  is 
the  Indian  aborigines  who  give  to  the  aspect  of  its 
streets  and  squares  the  picturesqueness  which  half 
atones  for  squalor.  They  set  up  their  little  booths, 
sometimes  covered  with  canvas,  along  the  arcades  and 
in  the  plazas,  and  loaf  about  in  their  bright-coloured 
ponchos  and  broad,  flat,  straw  hats,  the  dry-weather 
side  of  the  straw  covered  with  a sort  of  velveteen 
adorned  with  tinsel,  and  the  wet-weather  side  with  red 
flannel.  Women  lean  over  the  rough  wooden  balconies 
on  the  first  floors  of  the  houses,  and  talk  to  the  loungers 
in  the  plaza  below.  Strings  of  llamas  bearing  their 
burdens  pass  along,  the  only  creatures,  besides  the  tiny 
mules,  who  do  any  work.  There  are  scarcely  any  wheeled 
vehicles,  for  those  not  forced  by  poverty  to  walk,  ride 


102 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mostly  on  donkeys;  and  the  only  events  are  saints’ 
days,  with  their  processions,  occurring  so  frequently 
that  the  habit  of  laziness  has  unequalled  opportunities 
for  confirming  itself.  Though  the  Quichuas  were 
under  the  Incas  a most  industrious  race,  and  still  give 
assiduous  labour  to  their  fields,  the  atmosphere  of  the 
city  is  one  of  easy  idleness,  nothing  to  do,  and  plenty 
of  time  to  do  it.  The  only  manufactory  we  came 
across  was  a German  brewery,  — there  is  no  place, 
however  remote,  where  one  does  not  find  the  enter- 
prising German.  Neither  is  there  any  trade,  except 
that  of  supplying  a few  cheap  goods  to  the  surrounding 
country  folk.  By  far  the  best  general  warehouse  is  kept 
by  an  Italian  gentleman  who  has  got  together  an  inter- 
esting collection  of  antiquities. 

Now  let  us  turn  from  the  Cuzco  of  the  last  three  and 
a half  centuries  back  to  the  olden  time  and  see  what 
remains  of  the  ancient  city  of  the  Sun  and  of  the  Incas, 
his  children.  It  is  worth  while  to  do  so,  for  here,  more 
than  anywhere  else  in  South  America,  there  is  some- 
thing that  helps  the  traveller  to  recall  a society  and  a 
religion  so  unlike  the  present  that  it  seems  half  mythic. 
Whoever  has  read,  as  most  of  us  did  in  our  boyhood,  of 
the  marvels  of  the  Peruvian  Empire  which  Pizarro  de- 
stroyed, brings  an  ardent  curiosity  to  the  central  seat 
of  that  Empire,  and  expects  to  find  many  a monument 
of  its  glories. 

The  reality  is  disappointing,  yet  it  is  impressive. 
One  learns  more  from  a little  seeing  than  from 
reading  many  books.  As  our  expectations  had  been 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  103 


unduly  raised,  it  is  right  to  give  this  reality  with  some 
little  exactness  of  detail.  The  interest  of  the  remains 
lies  entirely  in  what  they  tell  us  about  their  builders, 
for  there  is  nothing  beautiful,  nothing  truly  artistic 
to  describe.  The  traces  of  the  Incas1  to  be  seen  in 
Cuzco,  and,  indeed,  anywhere  in  Peru,  are  all  of  one 
kind  only.  They  are  Walls.  No  statue,  no  painting. 
No  remains  of  a complete  roofed  building,  either 
temple  or  palace;  nothing  but  ruins,  and  mostly  frag- 
mentary ruins.  The  besom  of  Spanish  destruction 
swept  clean.  Everything  connected  with  the  old  reli- 
gion had  to  perish : priests  and  friars  took  care  of  that. 
As  for  other  buildings,  it  did  not  occur  to  anybody  to 
spare  them.  Even  in  Italy,  not  long  before  Pizarro’s 
day,  a man  so  cultivated  as  Pope  Julius  the  Second 
knocked  about  the  incomparably  more  beautiful  and 
remarkable  buildings  of  ancient  Rome  when  they  inter- 
fered with  his  plans  of  building. 

But  the  walls  at  Cuzco  are  remarkable.  They  are 
unique  memorials,  not  only  of  power  and  persist- 
ence, but  in  a certain  way  of  skill  also,  not  in  deco- 
rative art,  for  of  that  there  is  scarcely  a trace  left, 
but  of  a high  degree  of  expertness  in  the  cutting  and 
fitting  together  of  enormous  blocks.  Most  of  the 
streets  of  the  modern  city  follow  the  lines  of  ancient 
pre-Conquest  streets,  and  in  many  of  these  there  are 

1 The  name  “ Inca  ” properly  belongs  to  the  ruling  family  or  clan  in 
the  Peruvian  monarchy,  of  whose  ethnic  relations  to  its  subjects  we 
know  very  little,  but  I use  it  here  to  denote  not  only  the  dynasty, 
but  the  epoch  of  their  rule,  which  apparently  covered  two  centuries 
(possibly  more)  before  the  arrival  of  Pizarro.  The  expression  “ The 
Inca”  means  the  reigning  monarch. 


104 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


long  stretches  of  wall  from  six  or  eight  to  sixteen 
or  eighteen  feet  in  height  so  entirely  unlike  Spanish 
buildings  that  their  Inca  origin  is  unquestionable. 
They  are  of  various  types,  each  of  which  probably 
belongs  to  an  epoch  of  its  own.  The  most  frequent, 
and  apparently  the  latest  type,  shews  very  large 
blocks  of  a dark  grey  rock,  a syenite  or  trachyte, 
cut  to  a uniform  rectangular  oblong  form,  the  outer 
faces,  which  are  nearly  smooth  and  slightly  convex, 
being  cut  in  towards  the  joinings  of  the  other  stones. 
The  blocks  are  fitted  together  with  the  utmost  care, 
so  close  to  one  another  that  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  a knife  can  seldom  be  inserted  between  them.  The 
walls  which  they  make  slope  very  slightly  backward, 
and,  in  most  cases,  the  stones  are  smaller  in  the  upper 
layers  than  in  the  lower.  Two  such  walls  enclose  a 
long  and  narrow  street  which  runs  southeastward  from 
the  great  Plaza.  They  are  in  perfect  preservation,  and 
sustain  in  some  places  the  weight  of  modern  houses 
built  upon  them.  There  are  very  few  apertures  for 
doors  or  windows,  but  one  high  gateway  furnishes  a 
good  specimen  of  the  Inca  door  and  is  surmounted  by  a 
long  slab  on  which  are  carved  in  relief,  quite  rudely, 
the  figures  of  two  serpents.  In  other  places  one  finds 
walls  of  the  same  character,  but  with  smaller  blocks 
and  less  perfect  workmanship.  Of  a third  type  the 
wall  of  the  so-called  Palace  of  the  Inca  Roca  is  the 
best  instance.  It  is  what  we  call  in  Europe  a Cyclo- 
pean building,  the  blocks  enormous  and  of  various 
shapes,  but  each  carefully  cut  and  adjusted  to  the  in- 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  105 


equalities  of  outline  in  the  adjoining  blocks,  so  that  all 
fit  perfectly  together.  One  famous  stone  shews  twelve 
angles  into  which  the  stones  above,  below,  and  at  each 
side  of  it  have  been  made  to  fit.  This  type  seems  older, 
perhaps  by  centuries,  than  that  first  described.  In  none 
of  the  walls  is  any  mortar  or  any  other  kind  of  cement- 
ing material  used  : their  strength  consists  in  their  weight 
and  in  the  exactness  with  which  they  are  compacted 
together.  The  most  beautifully  finished  piece  of  all 
is  to  be  seen  in  the  remains  of  the  great  Temple  of 
the  Sun  on  whose  site  and  out  of  whose  ruins  have 
been  built  the  church  and  convent  of  St.  Dominick. 
Here,  at  the  west  end  of  the  church,  there  is  what  was 
evidently  the  external  wall  of  the  end  of  the  temple. 
It  is  rounded,  and  each  of  the  large  squared  stones 
is  so  cut  as  to  conform  perfectly  to  the  curve  of  the 
whole.  None  of  the  single  stones  has  the  convexity 
which  appears  in  the  walls  first  described,  because  the 
surfaces  of  all  have  been  levelled  and  polished  so  that 
they  form  one  uniformly  smooth  and  uniformly  curved 
surface,  as  if  they  were  all  one  block.  A more  exqui- 
sitely finished  piece  of  work  cannot  be  imagined.  It  is 
at  least  as  good  as  anything  of  the  same  kind  in  Egypt, 
and  stands  as  perfect  now  as  it  was  when  the  Spaniards 
destroyed  the  superstructure  of  the  temple. 

The  city  is  full  of  these  fragments  of  wall.  I discovered 
in  out-of-the-way  corners  some  that  were  supporting 
little  terraced  garden  beds,  others  in  backyards,  or  even  in 
pigsties,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  there  were  four  or  five 
distinct  styles  or  types  of  stone  cutting  and  stone  fitting, 


106 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


belonging  to  different  ages.1  If  all  the  buildings  erected 
since  1540  could  be  removed  without  disturbing  the  older 
buildings  beneath  them,  that  which  was  left  would  be  suf- 
ficient to  give  a fairly  complete  ground  plan  of  the  Inca 
city  and  enable  us  to  form  some  idea  of  its  character. 
But  we  should  not  then  be  much  nearer  to  knowing 
what  was  the  actual  aspect  of  the  great  palaces  and 
temples  before  the  work  of  destruction  began.  The 
Incas  built  immense  covered  halls,  we  are  told  of  one 
two  hundred  paces  long  by  fifty  wide,  but  it  does 
not  appear  how  they  were  roofed  over,  for  the  arch 
was,  of  course,  unknown.  Apparently  there  was  little 
or  nothing  of  that  advanced  form  of  art  in  pattern  orna- 
mentation and  in  figures  of  men  and  animals  which 
we  admire  in  the  ruins  of  Copan  (in  Honduras)  or 
Palenque  (in  Mexico)  and  other  places  in  Central 
America.  Perhaps  the  intractable  nature  of  the 
volcanic  and  other  hard  igneous  stone  used  by  the 
Incas  compared  with  the  comparatively  soft  lime- 
stones of  Palenque  and  Mitla  discouraged  attempts  at 
elaborate  mural  decoration.  Perhaps  the  artistic  talent 
of  the  Peruvians  did  not  go  far.  Their  pottery, 
whether  plain  or  made  to  represent  the  forms  of  liv- 
ing creatures,  is  generally  rude,  and  the  paintings  on 
wooden  vessels  shew  only  mediocre  power  of  drawing, 
though  they  do  shew  that  fine  sense  of  colour  which  is 

1 A patient  archaeologist  might  be  able  by  examining  and  photo- 
graphing specimens  of  each  style  to  determine  their  chronological 
succession  and  thus  throw  some  light  on  the  history  of  the  city.  The 
oldest  type  appeared  to  be  that  of  the  Inca  Roca  wall,  very  similar 
to  that  of  the  Sacsahuaman  walls  to  be  presently  described. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  107 


present  in  most  of  the  art  work  of  the  aboriginal 
Americans. 

Cuzco  has  no  public  museum,  but  there  are  two  or 
three  small  private  collections.  In  one  of  these  the 
most  interesting  objects  shewn  us  were  the  pictures  on 
wood  representing  combats  between  Peruvian  warriors 
and  their  enemies,  the  savage  tribes  of  the  eastern 
forests.  The  former  fight  with  the  spear  and  have  the 
sling  for  their  missile  weapon,  the  latter  use  the  bow, 
as  do  their  descendants  to  this  day.  In  this  collec- 
tion there  were  also  bows  taller  than  a man,  with  arrows 
of  corresponding  size,  formidable  weapons,  which  some 
of  the  natives  of  the  forest,  placing  them  flat  on  the 
ground,  draw  with  their  feet  and  with  which  they  are 
said  to  kill  fish  in  the  rivers  as  well  as  land  game. 
These,  and  the  beautiful  feather  plumes,  and  the  rude 
heads  of  pumas,  wild  cats,  and  birds  of  prey,  had  all 
a flavour  of  barbarism^  and  were  far  inferior  to  the 
remains  of  Egyptian  or  Assyrian  art.1  The  Peruvian 
mummies,  specimens  of  which  we  also  saw,  are  not 
laid  out  at  full  length,  like  those  of  Egypt,  but  have 
the  knees  pressed  to  the  chin. 

Grand  as  are  the  walls  inside  Cuzco,  they  seem  in- 
significant when  one  examines  the  more  stupendous 
ramparts  of  the  prehistoric  fortress  on  Sacsahuaman 
Hill,  which  rises  immediately  above  the  city  to  a height 
of  about  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  I describe  them 
the  more  fully  because  much  study  has  been  of  late 

1 Good  specimens  of  all  these  things  may  be  seen  in  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History  of  New  York. 


108 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


years  bestowed  upon  the  (so-called)  Cyclopean  and 
other  ancient  walls  of  Europe,  such  as  those  of  Tarra- 
gona in  Spain,  of  Greek  cities,  like  Tiryns  and  Naxos 
(near  Taormina),  and  of  the  Volscian  and  Latin  cities 
round  Rome,  so  that  an  account  of  the  more  imposing 
Peruvian  structures  may  be  of  interest  to  some  read- 
ers. The  hill,  nearly  halfway  up  which,  on  a terrace, 
are  the  remains  of  its  palace  attributed  to  the  Inca 
Manco  Capac,  is  in  its  upper  part  extremely  steep, 
in  places  even  precipitous,  and  commands  a wonderful 
view  over  the  mass  of  red-roofed  houses,  the  long, 
straight  streets  in  some  of  which  the  dark  lines  of  Inca 
wall  can  just  be  discerned,  the  three  broad  plazas  with 
Indians  and  their  llamas  creeping  about  like  ants,  the 
sunny  vale  below,  and  the  snow-clad  summits  of  the 
Nevado  (snow  mountain)  of  Ausungate,  piercing  the 
sky  in  the  far  distance.  Stone  ramparts  ran  all  round 
the  upper  part  of  the  hill,  and  parts  of  them  still  remain 
on  this  southern  face.  What  with  their  height  and 
solidity  and  with  the  natural  strength  of  the  ground, 
the  fortress  must  have  been  on  this  side  impregnable 
before  the  invention  of  gunpowder.  But  on  the  other, 
or  northerly  side,  that  turned  away  from  Cuzco,  the 
hill  is  not  only  less  steep,  but  has  also  much  less 
rise,  for  it  is  less  than  a hundred  feet  above  the 
ground  behind  it.  Here,  therefore,  since  nature  had 
done  less,  there  was  more  for  art  to  do;  and  here 
we  find  fortress  walls  on  a scale  of  incomparable 
grandeur. 

They  are  built  in  three  parallel  lines,  one  behind  the 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  109 


other,  and  both  their  length,  nearly  one  third  of  a 
mile,  and  the  massiveness  of  their  construction,  and  the 
enormous  size  of  many  of  the  individual  stones  make 
this  fortress  one  of  the  most  impressive  monuments  of 
prehistoric  times  that  the  world  contains.1  It  shews 
that  those  who  raised  it  had  a boldness  of  concep- 
tion and  a persistent  energy  in  carrying  out  that 
conception  amazing  in  a primitive  people,  for  the 
work  seems  to  belong  to  a very  early  time,  long 
anterior  to  those  historic  Incas  whom  the  Spaniards 
overthrew. 

Hardly  less  wonderful  than  the  gigantic  proportions 
of  these  fortifications  is  the  military  skill  shewn  in  their 
construction.  Their  line  is  not  straight,  as  in  most  of 
the  walls  of  ancient  Greek  and  Italian  and  early  medi- 
aeval cities,  but  consists  of  a series  of  salient  and  re- 
entering angles,  so  that  from  each  salient  angle  and 
each  inner  angle  the  whole  space  outside  and  below 
the  wall  as  far  as  the  next  projecting  angle  could  be 
commanded  by  the  garrison.  This  arrangement,  which, 
while  it  increased  the  length  of  the  work  and  required 
more  labour  to  complete  it,  increased  immensely  its 
defensive  efficiency,  indicates  a skill  hardly  to  be 
expected  in  a race  comparatively  pacific,  and  more  emi- 
nent in  the  arts  of  government  than  in  those  of  war. 
Yet  perhaps  it  was  just  because  they  were  not  first- 

1 Some  of  the  granite  blocks  in  the  fortress  at  Osaka  in  Japan 
are  even  larger,  but  these  belong  to  the  time  of  Hideoshi,  early  in 
the  seventeenth  century.  There  is  some  reason  to  think  that  the 
city  or  at  least  the  neighbourhood  of  Cuzco  may  have  been  inhabited 
from  very  remote  times. 


110 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


class  fighting  men  like  the  Aztecs  or  the  Iroquois  that 
the  Quichuas  were  successful  in  devising  expedients  for 
defence.  Sparta  was  the  only  considerable  Greek  city 
that  did  not  surround  herself  with  walls,  because  the 
valour  of  her  people  was  deemed  sufficient  protection. 

On  the  top  of  the  hill  behind  these  lines  of  ramparts 
there  are  remains  of  ancient  buildings,  though  none 
with  such  enormous  stones.  It  is  hard  to  make  out 
what  these  edifices  were,  for  every  bit  of  ground  built 
upon  has  been  ransacked  over  and  over  again  for 
hidden  treasure.  Peru  is  full  of  stories  about  fabulous 
quantities  of  Inca  gold  hidden  away  to  save  it  from  the 
rapacity  of  the  conquerors,  and  some  of  the  tales 
may  be  true,  though  hardly  any  such  treasures  have 
been  found  for  more  than  a century  past.  But  the 
story  that  there  is  a secret  passage  cut  in  the  rock  from 
the  Inca  castle  at  the  top  of  the  hill  down  through  it 
and  into  Cuzco  where  it  opens  to  the  Temple  of  the 
Sun  is  too  much  for  any  but  native  credulity.  These 
beliefs  in  long  subterranean  passages  recur  everywhere 
in  the  world.  It  was  — perhaps  still  is  — believed  in 
Oxford  that  there  is  such  an  one  from  the  church  of  St. 
Peter  in  the  city  to  the  ruined  nunnery  on  the  river  at 
Godstow  (Fair  Rosamond’s  place  of  confinement)  two 
miles  distant.  It  is  believed  in  Kerwan  (in  Tunisia)  that 
the  most  sacred  of  the  wells  in  that  most  sacred  of  all 
African  cities  communicates  underground  with  the  well 
Zem  Zem  in  Mecca  two  thousand  miles  away  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Red  Sea.  The  most  persistent 
treasure  hunt  carried  on  by  the  Peruvians  has  been  that 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  111 


for  the  golden  chain  made  by  the  Inca  Huayna  Capac, 
which  was  long  enough  to  be  stretched  all  round  the 
great  square  of  Cuzco,  and  was  thrown  into  the  lake 
of  Urcos  lest  it  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Span- 
iards. Everybody  believes  it  to  be  still  at  the  bottom 
of  the  lake,  which  is  very  deep. 

Opposite  the  great  walls  and  about  a third  of  a mile 
away  is  a rocky  eminence  called,  from  a curious  convex 
mass  of  extremely  hard  igneous  rock  upon  it,  the  Roda- 
dero.  The  rock  is  polished  smooth  and  has  two  pro- 
jecting ridges  on  its  surface.  How  much  of  this  pe- 
culiar slope  down  which  many  generations  of  Peruvian 
boys  have  rejoiced  to  slide  — they  were  doing  so  in 
the  days  of  Garcilaso,  soon  after  the  Conquest  — is 
due  to  nature,  how  much  to  art  improving  nature, 
has  been  matter  for  controversy.  But  far  more  curi- 
ous are  the  seats  carved  in  the  hard  rock  all  over 
the  top  and  slopes  of  “the  hill,  the  cutting  done  with 
exquisite  care  and  finish,  the  angles  perfectly  sharp,  the 
flat  parts  perfectly  smooth.  The  most  remarkable  is 
a set  of  thirteen  seats,  one  in  the  centre  and  high- 
est, nine  others  declining  from  it  on  the  left  and  three 
on  the  right.  This  is  called  the  Seat  of  the  Inca,  but 
there  is  no  record,  nor  any  authentic  tradition,  of  the 
purpose  for  which,  or  the  persons  by  whom,  it  was  con- 
structed, nor  of  the  purpose  of  the  many  other  seats, 
and  small  staircases,  and  niches,  and  basins  similarly 
chiselled  out  of  the  rock  which  are  scattered  here 
and  there  all  round.  In  one  place  two  great  and  finely 
cut  blocks  look  like  fragments  of  a doorway  shat- 


112 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tered  by  an  earthquake,  and  not  far  off  there  are  singu- 
lar passages  hewn  through  the  rock,  and  now  in  parts 
closed,  which  have  the  appearance  of  a sort  of  laby- 
rinth. Looking  at  the  Inca’s  Seat,  one’s  first  conjec- 
ture would  be  that  it  was  a bench  for  judges  to  sit 
upon.  Other  seats  look  more  like  shrines  meant  for 
images;  but  no  fragments  of  images  are  found.  All 
these  strange  cuttings  and  polishings  seem  so  inex- 
plicable that  one  would  conjecture  the  mere  caprice  of 
a whimsical  ruler,  but  for  the  immense  pains  that  must 
have  been  taken  in  doing  such  perfect  work  in  such 
hard  material.  No  Spanish  writer  of  Conquest  days 
gives  us  any  light.  It  is  a riddle,  the  key  to  which 
is  lost,  and  lost  irrecoverably,  because  there  are  no 
inscriptions  and  no  traditions. 

Reverting  to  the  fortress  of  Sacsahuaman,  there 
is  a current  view  that  it  was  erected  as  an  outwork  to 
defend  Cuzco  from  the  attacks  of  the  fierce  tribes  of 
the  eastern  and  northern  valleys  whose  raids  the  Incas 
frequently  had  to  repel.  It  seems,  however,  super- 
fluously huge  as  a defence  against  such  enemies,  not 
to  add  that  they  could  easily  have  descended  upon 
Cuzco  from  the  other  sides  of  the  two  ravines  between 
which  the  fortress  stands.  More  probably,  there- 
fore Sacsahuaman  is  a very  ancient  stronghold,  prob- 
ably much  older  than  Cuzco,  or  at  any  rate  than 
Cuzco’s  greatness.  It  may  have  been  the  earliest 
seat  of  some  very  early  king  or  dynasty,  and  have 
been,  in  the  flourishing  days  of  the  Inca  monarchy, 
a citadel  where  the  reigning  sovereign  kept  his  treas- 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  113 


ures  and  to  which  he  could  retire  for  safety  in  case  of 
need. 

I am  not  attempting  to  describe  all  the  relics  of 
antiquity  that  are  to  be  seen  in  or  near  Cuzco.  There 
are  striking  ruins  not  far  off,  such  as  those  at  Ollantay- 
tambo  and  Pisac,  and  lower  down  the  Vilcamayu  Valley 
at  Machu  Picchu  and  Rosas  Pata,  as  well  as  others 
still  more  distant  in  the  high  country  between  here  and 
Lima.1  But  what  is  true  at  Cuzco  is  true  every- 
where. The  only  ruins  are  of  walls  and  gates  of  for- 
tresses and  palaces;  in  a few  spots  of  temples,  also. 
In  these  there  are  evidences  of  enormous  labour  and 
considerable  mechanical  skill,  but  only  slight  evidences 
of  artistic  talent.  The  walls,  perfectly  cut  and  polished, 
have  seldom  the  smallest  ornament,  except  niches. 
There  are  no  domes,  for  the  art  of  vaulting  was  un- 
known, and  hardly  ever  columns.  So  far  as  we  can  tell, 
the  great  Sun  Temple  at  Cuzco  consisted  only  of  lofty 
walls  enclosing  courts,  with  no  decoration  but  plates 
of  gold  attached  to  the  walls.  True  it  is  that  the 
Spaniards  destroyed  all  the  religious  and  many  of  the 
secular  edifices,  yet  if  there  had  been  temples  covered 
with  ornaments  like  those  found  in  Southern  Mexico 
and  Central  America,  some  traces  must  surely  have 
remained. 

1 Such  as  that  at  Choqquequirau  described  by  my  friend  Profes- 
sor Bingham  in  his  book  entitled  Across  South  America.  He  dis- 
covered, in  1911,  an  Inca  building  at  a place  on  the  river  Pampa- 
conas  fifteen  days’  journey  north  of  Cuzco  and  only  two  thousand 
feet  above  sea-level.  It  was  not  previously  known  that  their 
power  had  extended  so  far  in  that  direction. 


114 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Notwithstanding  this  want  of  decorative  art,  the 
Cuzco  ruins  leave  upon  the  beholder  a strong  impres- 
sion, the  impression  of  immense  energy  and  will  in 
those  who  planned  these  works,  of  patient  and  highly 
trained  labour  in  those  who  executed  them.  Only 
despotic  rulers  commanding  like  the  Egyptian  kings 
a host  of  obedient  subjects,  could  have  reared  such  a 
structure  as  the  fortress  of  Sacsahuaman.  The  race  that 
could  erect  such  buildings  and  gather  such  treasures  as 
the  Temple  of  the  Sun  possessed,  and  could  conquer 
and  rule  a dominion  of  fifty  days’  journey  from  north 
to  south,  must  have  been  a strong  and  in  its  way  a gifted 
race.  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  it  was  the  ancestor  of 
those  stolid  and  downtrodden  Indians  whom  one  sees 
to-day,  peddling  their  rude  wares  in  the  market  place 
of  Cuzco.  It  is  their  old  imperial  town,  but  there  is 
scarcely  one  among  them  above  the  rank  of  a la- 
bourer ; and  during  the  last  three  centuries  few  in- 
deed have  emerged  from  the  abject  condition  to  which 
the  Conquest  reduced  them. 

The  sudden  fall  of  a whole  race  is  an  event  so  rare 
in  history  that  one  seeks  for  explanations.  It  may 
be  that  not  only  the  royal  Inca  family,  but  nearly 
the  whole  ruling  class  was  destroyed  in  war,  leaving 
only  the  peasants  who  had  already  been  serfs  under 
their  native  sovereigns.  But  one  is  disposed  to  be- 
lieve that  the  tremendous  catastrophe  which  befell 
them  in  the  destruction  at  once  of  their  dynasty, 
their  empire,  and  their  religion  by  fierce  conquerors,  in- 
comparably superior  in  energy  and  knowledge,  com- 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  115 


pletely  broke  not  only  the  spirit  of  the  nation,  but  the 
self-respect  of  the  individuals  who  composed  it.  They 
were  already  a docile  and  submissive  people,  and  now 
under  a new  tyranny,  far  harsher  than  that  of  rulers 
of  their  own  blood,  they  sank  into  hopeless  apathy, 
and  ceased  even  to  remember  what  their  forefathers  had 
been.  The  intensity  of  their  devotion  to  their  sover- 
eign and  their  deity  made  them  helpless  when  both 
were  overthrown,  leaving  them  nothing  to  turn  to, 
nothing  to  strive  for.  The  Conquistadores  were  wise 
in  their  hateful  way,  when  they  put  forth  the  resources 
of  cruelty  to  outrage  the  feelings  of  the  people  and 
stamp  terror  in  their  hearts.  One  cannot  stand  in  the 
great  Plaza  of  Cuzco  without  recalling  the  scene  of 
a.d.  1571,  when  one  of  the  last  of  the  Inca  line,  an 
innocent  youth,  seized  and  accused  of  rebellion  by  the 
Spanish  viceroy  Francisco  de  Toledo,  was  executed  in  the 
presence  of  a vast  Indian  crowd  that  filled  it.  When 
the  executioner  raised  the  sword  of  death,  there  rose 
such  a wail  of  horror  that  he  paused,  and  the  leading 
Spanish  churchmen  hastened  to  the  viceroy  and  begged 
him  for  mercy.  Determined  to  make  an  example, 
Toledo  was  inexorable.  The  young  Inca,  Tupac 
Amaru,  was  beheaded  and  his  head  stuck  on  a pike, 
and  placed  beside  the  scaffold.  At  midnight  a Spaniard, 
looking  out  of  a window  that  commanded  the  Plaza 
was  amazed  to  see  it  again  filled  with  Indians,  all 
silent  and  motionless,  kneeling  in  veneration  before 
the  head  of  the  last  representative  of  the  sacred  line. 

More  than  two  hundred  years  later  another  more  re- 


116 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mote  scion  of  the  Incas,  Jose  Gabriel  Condorcanqui, 
who  had  taken  the  same  name  of  Tupac  Amaru,  — I 
have  already  referred  to  him  on  p.  92,  — had  been 
stirred  to  indignation  by  what  he  saw  of  the  Indian 
population  suffering  from  the  exactions  as  well  of  the 
Spanish  landowners  who  held  them  in  serfdom  as  of 
the  rapacious  Spanish  officials.  After  many  Vhin  com- 
plaints, he  headed  a movement  to  obtain  redress  by 
force,  not  rejecting  the  authority  of  the  Spanish 
Crown,  but  trying  to  rouse  the  Indians  by  appeals  to 
the  faint  memories  of  Inca  greatness.  The  hope  of 
relief  from  their  miseries  drew  thousands  of  the  abo- 
rigines to  his  standard.  But  they  were  ill  armed  and 
worse  organized;  the  race  had  no  longer  any  strength  in 
it  for  a fight,  and  in  some  months  the  rising  was  quelled, 
after  frightful  slaughter,  its  leader  betrayed  to  the  Span- 
iards, his  family  seized,  and  all  brought  prisoners  to 
Cuzco.  There,  by  the  sentence  of  the  Spanish  judge, 
a monster  named  Areche,  the  uncle  and  son-in-law 
and  wife  of  Tupac  Amaru,  had  their  tongues  cut  out 
and  were  executed  before  his  eyes,  that  death  might  be 
made  more  horrible  to  him  by  the  sight  of  their  agonies. 
He  was  then,  after  his  own  tongue  had  been  cut  out,  torn 
in  pieces  by  four  horses  attached  to  his  four  limbs.  All 
this  happened  in  1781,  within  the  memory  of  the  grand- 
fathers of  men  now  living.  Such  atrocities  were  at  once 
the  evidence  of  what  Spanish  rule  in  Peru  had  been  and 
a presage  of  its  fall.  Within  twenty  years  thereafter 
began  those  first  conspiracies  against  the  authority 
of  Spain  which  ushered  in  the  War  of  Independence. 


CUZCO  AND  THE  LAND  OF  THE  INCAS  117 


Many  another  scene  of  horror  and  strife  has  Cuzco 
seen.  Wandering  through  its  streets,  one  is  possessed 
every  moment  by  the  sense  of  how  much  has  happened 
in  a place  where  nowadays  nothing  seems  to  happen. 
Perhaps  it  is  because  its  annals  are  so  tragic  that  this 
sense  is  so  strong ; but  there  are  certainly  few  places 
where  the  very  stones  seem  more  saturated  with  his- 
tory. More  than  three  centuries  ago  the  historian 
Garcilaso  de  la  Vega  compared  Cuzco  to  ancient  Rome. 
The  two  cities  have  little  more  in  common  than  the  fact 
that  both  were  capitals  of  dominions  long  since  de- 
parted, and  the  seats  of  faiths  long  since  extinct.  But 
in  both  this  feeling  of  a vista  stretching  far  back  and 
filled  with  many  spectres  of  the  past  is  overpowering. 
The  long,  grey,  mouldering  streets  and  houses  of  Span- 
ish Cuzco,  the  ancient  walls  of  primitive  Peruvian  Cuzco, 
defying  time  better  than  the  convents  and  the  churches, 
each  calling  up  contrasted  races  and  civilizations,  the 
plazas  too  vast  for  the  shrunken  population,  the  curious 
sense  of  two  peoples  living  side  by  side  in  a place  from 
which  the  old  life  has  vanished  and  into  which  no  new 
fife  has  come,  the  sense  of  utter  remoteness  from  the  mod- 
ern world,  all  these  things  give  to  Cuzco  a strange  and 
dreamy  melancholy,  a melancholy  all  the  deeper  be- 
cause there  was  little  in  its  past  that  one  could  wish 
restored.  There  were  dark  sides  to  the  ancient  civil- 
ization. But  was  it  worth  destroying  in  order  to 
erect  on  its  ruins  what  the  Conquerors  brought  to 
Peru? 


118 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


NOTE  ON  THE  FORTRESS  OF  SACSAHUAMAN 

The  walls  of  Sacsahuaman  are  built  in  three  parallel  lines,  the 
lowest  of  which  stands  on  level  ground,  at  the  very  base  of  the 
hill ; the  second  about  six  yards  behind  the  first,  and  therefore  on 
the  slope ; the  third  still  higher  on  the  slope,  three  yards  behind 
the  second.  The  space  behind  each  wall  has  been  filled  in  and 
levelled,  so  as  to  be  a nearly  flat  terrace,  supported  by  the  wall 
in  front  of  it.  These  three  lines  of  wall  extend  along  and  protect 
the  whole  northern  face  of  the  hill,  nearly  six  hundred  yards  long, 
between  the  points  where  it  falls  abruptly  into  deep  ravines  to  the 
east  and  the  west,  which  give  a natural  defence.  The  outermost 
wall  at  the  base  of  the  hill  is  the  highest,  about  twenty-six  feet;  the 
second  is  from  eighteen  to  twenty  feet;  the  third,  the  least  per- 
fectly preserved,  is  a little  less  high,  perhaps  fifteen  feet.  The 
stones  in  the  outermost  row  are  the  largest.  One  is  over  twenty-five 
feet  high,  fourteen  wide,  and  twelve  thick.  Not  a few  exceed  fifteen 
feet  in  height  and  twelve  in  width.  There  were  three  openings  or 
gateways  in  each  wrall,  the  largest  of  which  is  twelve  feet  high,  and 
over  each  of  these  was  laid  a long  flat  slab.  The  blocks,  which  are 
of  a hard,  greyish  limestone,  are  all  or  nearly  all  rudely  square  or 
oblong,  though  sometimes  where  the  shape  of  one  is  irregular,  the 
irregularity  is  cut  into  an  entering  angle  and  the  next  stone  is  made 
to  fit  into  this  with  its  projecting  angle,  thus  knitting  the  structure 
together.  The  surface  of  each  is  slightly  convex  and  bevelled  down 
towards  the  outer  lines,  where  it  meets  the  blocks  laid  next.  All 
are  so  carefully  adjusted  that  even  now  there  are  virtually  no  in- 
terstices, though  the  fitting  together  may  probably  have  been  even 
more  exact  before  earthquakes  and  time  had  begun  to  tell  upon  the 
fabric.  Its  strength,  as  there  is  no  mortar,  depends  upon  the  mas- 
siveness of  the  stones  and  their  cohesion.  Each  wall  rises  a little, 
perhaps  a foot  and  a half,  above  the  terrace  immediately  behind 
it,  but  the  level  of  the  terrace  may  probably  have  been  originally 
somewhat  lower,  so  that  the  bodies  of  those  defending  the  fortress 
would  be  better  covered  by  the  wall  in  front  of  them  against  missiles 
from  the  enemy. 

The  stones  of  Sacsahuaman  have  been  brought  from  a hill  about 
three-quarters  of  a mile  distant,  where  a huge  mound  of  chips  cut 
from  them  has  been  discovered  by  Mr.  Bingham  since  the  date  of 
my  visit.  (Edition  of  1913.) 


CHAPTER  IV 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  THE  CENTRAL  ANDES 

From  Cuzco,  the  oldest  of  South  American  cities, 
with  its  mingled  memories  of  an  Indian  and  a Spanish 
past,  I will  ask  the  reader  to  follow  me  to  a land  of 
ancient  silence  where  an  aboriginal  people,  under  the 
pressure  of  a stern  nature,  and  almost  untouched  by  all 
that  modern  civilization  has  brought,  still  lead  the 
lives  and  cling  to  the  beliefs  that  their  ancestors  led 
and  held  many  centuries  ago.  This  is  the  heart  of 
the  Andean  plateau,  where,  in  a country  almost  as 
purely  Indian  as  it  was  when  it  submitted  to  Pizarro, 
lies  Lake  Titicaca. 

Ever  since  as  a boy  I had  read  of  a great  inland  sea 
lying  between  the  two  ranges  of  the  Cordillera  almost 
as  high  above  the  ocean  as  is  the  top  of  the  Jungfrau, 
I had  wondered  what  the  scenery  of  such  mountains 
and  such  a sea  might  be  like,  and  had  searched  books 
and  questioned  travellers  without  getting  from  them 
what  I sought.  There  are  no  other  bodies  of  fresh 
water  on  the  earth’s  surface  nearly  so  lofty,  except  on 
the  plateaux  of  Central  Asia,  and  none  of  these,  such 
as  the  Manasarowar  lakes  in  Tibet 1 and  Lake  Sir-i-kul 
in  the  Pamirs  is  nearly  so  extensive  as  this  lake  in  Peru. 
It  fills  the  lower  part  of  an  immense  shallow  depression 
between  the  eastern  and  western  Cordilleras ; and  the 

1 Dr.  Sven  Hedin  gives  the  height  of  Tso  Mavang  as  15,098  feet 
above  sea  level. 


119 


120 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


land  both  to  the  north  and  to  the  south  of  it  is  for  a great 
distance  so  level  that  we  may  believe  the  area  covered 
by  its  waters  to  have  been  at  one  time  far  greater.  Its 
present  length  is  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles, 
its  greatest  width  forty-one  miles,  and  its  area  nearly 
equal  to  that  of  Lake  Erie.  The  shape  is  extremely 
irregular,  for  there  are  many  deep  bays,  and  many 
far  projecting  promontories.  There  are  also  many 
islands,  two  of  which,  famous  in  Peruvian  mythology, 
I shall  presently  describe. 

This  central  plateau  of  Peru  is  a singular  region. 
As  its  height  is  from  twelve  thousand  to  thirteen  thou- 
sand feet  above  sea  level,  the  climate  is  always  cold, 
except  when  one  is  actually  exposed  to  the  direct  rays 
of  the  sun,  but  it  varies  comparatively  little  from  the 
summer  to  the  winter  months ; and  though  snow  often 
falls,  it  soon  disappears.  In  so  inclement  an  air,  and 
with  a rather  scanty  rainfall,  only  a few  hardy  crops 
can  ripen,  such  as  potatoes  (the  plant  is  a native  of 
South  America,  and  there  are  many  other  species  of 
Solarium)  barley,  the  Oca  ( Oxalis  tuberosa,  a sort  of 
wood  sorrel),  and  the  Quinoa  (a  kind  of  edible  Chen- 
opodium)1  as  well  as  maize,  but  this  last  only  in  the 
warmer  and  more  sheltered  places.  There  are  few  trees, 
and  these  stunted;  nowhere  a wood.  Even  the  shrubs 
are  mere  scrub,  so  fuel  is  scarce  and  the  people  use  for 

1 In  some  parts  of  Mexico  the  Indians  use  the  seeds  of  a species 
of  Chenopodium  for  food.  Civilized  man  has  not  yet  troubled  him- 
self to  enquire  what  possibilities  of  development  there  may  be  in 
some  of  the  plants  which  primitive  or  barbarous  man  turned  to 
account. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  121 


cooking  purposes  in  the  mountains  the  tufts  of  a large 
woody-rooted  plant  called  Yareta,  growing  in  the  high 
mountains  which,  like  the  peat  of  Ireland,  burns  fiercely, 
but  is  soon  burnt  out,  and,  on  the  lower  grounds,  taquia 
(the  droppings  of  the  llama),  as  the  droppings  of  the 
yak  are  similarly  used  in  Tibet.  Nobody  thinks  of 
lighting  a fire  for  warmth : for  while  the  natives  seem 
not  to  feel  the  cold,  white  people  shiver  and  put  on 
more  clothes.  One  is  surprised  that  man  should  have 
continued  to  dwell  in  a land  so  ungenial  when  not  far 
off  to  the  east,  on  the  other  side  of  the  eastern  Cor- 
dillera, hot  valleys  and  an  abundant  rainfall  promise 
easier  conditions  of  life. 

This  lofty  tract,  stretching  from  the  snowy  peaks 
of  the  Vilcanota  as  far  as  La  Paz  in  Bolivia,  a dis- 
tance of  more  than  two  hundred  miles,  the  northern 
and  western  parts  of  it  in  Peru,  the  eastern  and  southern 
in  Bolivia,  is  really  a pure  Indian  country,  and  is  named 
the  Collao.  In  ancient  days  it  was  one  of  the  four  divi- 
sions of  the  Inca  Empire.  The  inhabitants  speak  a 
language  called  Aymard,  allied  to  the  Quichua  spoken 
farther  north.  In  Inca  days  there  were  apparently 
many  small  tribes,  each  with  its  own  tongue,  but  their 
names  and  memories  have  perished  with  their  languages, 
and  with  the  trifling  exception  of  a small  and  very  prim- 
itive race  called  the  Urus  (to  be  mentioned  later)  all 
the  aborigines  of  the  High  Andes  are  now  classified  as 
Quichuas  and  Aymaras.  The  modern  distinction  be- 
tween Peru  and  Bolivia  is  purely  arbitrary  and  politi- 
cal. Aymards  dwelling  west  of  the  lake  in  Peru  are 


122 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  same  people  as  Aymaras  dwelling  east  of  it  in  Bo- 
livia. 

Like  Tibet,  which  it  most  resembles  in  height  and 
cold  and  dryness,  this  strange  country  produces  no  more 
than  what  its  inhabitants  consume  and  has  nothing  to 
export  except  alpaca  wool  and  minerals,  nor,  at  present, 
very  much  of  these  latter,  for  only  few  mines  are  now 
being  worked.  The  population  does  not  increase,  but  it 
holds  its  ground,  and  wherever  the  soil  is  fit  for  cul- 
tivation, that  is  to  say,  wherever  it  is  not  too  stony  or 
too  swampy,  it  is  cultivated  by  the  Indians,  who  live 
here  in  the  same  rude  fashion  as  their  forefathers  be- 
fore the  Conquest.  Nor  is  it  only  on  the  flat  bottoms  of 
the  valleys  that  one  sees  their  little  patches  of  potatoes 
and  barley.  The  steep  slopes  of  the  hills  that  rise  from 
the  lake  have  also  been  terraced  to  make  ground  level  for 
cultivation,  and  each  strip  of  soil  is  supported  by  a wall 
of  loose  stones  well  fitted  together.  These  andenes,  as 
they  are  called,  which  are  common  all  over  the  hilly 
grounds  of  Peru,  remind  one  of  the  vine-bearing  terraces 
of  the  Rhineland,  and  like  them  witness  to  centuries  of 
patient  toil.  As  there  is  no  manure  nor  other  ferti- 
lizer, the  soil  is  allowed  to  rest  by  lying  fallow  from 
time  to  time,  so  the  area  under  cultivation  in  any  one 
year  is  less  than  the  number  of  the  terraces  might 
suggest.  Though  all  the  tillers  are  Indians,  most  of 
the  land  belongs  to  large  proprietors  who  seldom  come 
to  it  for  more  than  a couple  of  months  in  the  year,  the 
peasants  paying  them  either  in  a share  of  the  crops,  or  a 
certain  number  of  days’  labour  on  the  proprietor’s  own 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  123 


special  hacienda  or  finca  (farm)  which  his  steward  man- 
ages, or  perhaps  in  personal  service  for  some  weeks  ren- 
dered to  him  in  the  town  he  inhabits.  Rude  and  harsh 
is  the  life  of  these  peasants,  though  well  above  the  fear 
of  starvation  and  no  more  squalid  than  that  of  the  agri- 
cultural peasantry  in  some  parts  of  Europe.  Their 
houses  are  of  mud  baked  hard  in  the  sun  — the  usual 
adobe  of  Spanish  America  — or  perhaps  of  large  stones 
roughly  set  in  the  mud  as  a cement ; animals  often 
share  the  family  bedroom,  and  the  sleeping  places  are 
a sort  of  platform  or  divan  of  earth  raised  a little  from 
the  floor  along  the  walls  of  the  hut.  Furniture  there  is 
virtually  none,  for  wood  is  scarce  and  costly  so  far  from 
the  coast  on  one  side  and  the  forests  on  the  other, 
but  some  of  them  have  scraped  together  a good  deal 
of  property,  including  rich  dresses  and  ornaments  fit  to 
be  displayed  at  festivals.  For  clothing  they  have  a shirt 
and  drawers  of  coarse  cotton,  with  a poncho  of  heavy 
woollen  cloth;  for  food,  potatoes  frozen  and  squeezed 
dry,  to  enable  them  to  be  stored,  and  barley;  their 
only  luxury  is  chicha  beer,  or  alcohol  when  they  can 
get  it;  their  diversions,  church  festivals  with  proces- 
sions in  the  morning  and  orgiastic  dances  afterwards  ; 
or  a fight  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighbouring  vil- 
lage. Yet  with  all  this  apparent  poverty  and  squalor, 
they  are  in  this  region,  and  have  been  for  many  ages, 
more  advanced  in  the  arts  of  life  than  their  neighbours, 
those  half  nomad  tribes  of  the  trans-Andean  forests, 
who  subsist  on  what  their  arrows  or  blow-pipes  can 
kill,  and  live  in  terror  of  the  jaguar  and  the  anaconda 


124 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  the  still  more  dangerous  packs  of  wild  dogs  and 
peccaries.  Agriculture  and  settled  life  are  always  fac- 
tors of  material  progress,  and  the  Aymaras  would  prob- 
ably have  risen  out  of  the  sort  of  practical  serfdom 
in  which  they  he  and  from  which  scarcely  any  of  them 
emerge,  if  they  had  not  fallen  under  the  dominion  of  an 
alien  and  stronger  race  who  had  no  sympathy  with 
them  and  did  nothing  to  help  them  upwards. 

I return  to  the  lake  itself  which  fills  the  centre  of 
this  singular  plateau.  Its  northern  and  northwestern 
coasts,  lying  in  Peruvian  territory,  are  low  and  the 
water  shallow,  while  the  eastern  and  southern,  in 
Bolivia,  are  generally  high  and  bold  with  many 
rocky  promontories  and  isles  lying  off  them.  The 
greatest  depth  is  about  six  hundred  feet.  Storms  are 
frequent,  and  the  short,  heavy  waves  make  navigation 
dangerous,  all  the  more  so  because  the  water  is  so 
cold  that,  as  is  the  case  in  Lake  Superior  also,  a swim- 
mer is  so  soon  benumbed  that  his  chance  of  reaching 
land  is  slight.  Ice  sometimes  forms  in  the  shallower 
bays,  but  seldom  lasts.  Many  are  the  water  birds, 
gulls  and  divers,  and  flamingoes,  and  a kind  of  heron, 
besides  eagles  and  hawks,  though  the  big  so-called 
turkey  buzzard  of  the  lower  country  does  not  seem 
to  come  so  high,  and  the  huge  condor  is  no  longer 
frequent.  There  are  plenty  of  fish,  but  apparently 
of  two  genera  only,  the  species  (eight  are  enumerated) 
being  most  of  them  known  only  in  this  lake  and  in 
Lake  Poopo,  into  which  it  discharges.  The  scantiness 
both  of  fauna  and  flora  is  natural  when  the  unfavour- 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  125 


able  climatic  conditions  are  considered.  Among  the 
water  plants  the  commonest  is  a sort  of  rush,  appar- 
ently a species  of,  or  allied  to,  the  British  and  North 
American  genus  Scirpus,  and  called  Totora.  It  grows 
in  water  two  to  six  feet  deep,  rising  several  feet  above 
the  surface,  and  is  the  material  out  of  which  the  In- 
dians, having  no  wood,  construct  their  vessels,  plaiting 
it  and  tying  bunches  of  it  together,  for  it  is  tough 
as  well  as  buoyant.  In  these  apparently  frail  craft, 
propelled  by  sails  of  the  same  material,  they  traverse 
the  lake,  carrying  in  each  two  or  three  men  and  some- 
times a pretty  heavy  load.  These  vessels  which, 
having  neither  prow  nor  stern,  though  the  ends  are 
raised,  resemble  rafts  rather  than  boats,  are  steered  and, 
when  wind  fails,  are  moved  forward  by  paddles. 
Their  merit  is  that  of  being  unsinkable,  so  that  when  a 
storm  knocks  them  to  pieces  the  mariner  may  support 
himself  on  any  one  of  the  rush  bundles  and  drift  to  shore 
if  he  does  not  succumb  to  the  cold.  They  soon  become 
waterlogged  and  useless,  but  this  does  not  matter,  for 
the  totora  can  be  had  for  the  gathering,  and  the  supply 
exceeds  the  demand.  This  primitive  kind  of  craft  was 
known  on  the  coast  of  Peru  also : the  first  Spanish  ex- 
plorers met  rafts  of  wood  there  carrying  merchandise. 

Nowadays  four  small  steamers  ply  on  the  lake,  one 
of  them  making  a regular  tri-weekly  service  from 
Puno,  in  Peru,  the  terminus  of  the  Peruvian  Southern 
railway,  to  Guaqui  in  Bolivia,  whence  a railway  runs 
to  La  Paz.  This  is  at  present  the  quickest  way  from 
Panama  and  the  coast  of  Peru  to  Central  Bolivia. 


126 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  water  of  Titicaca  is  pure  and  exquisitely  clear. 
Some  have  described  it  as  brackish,  but  I could  dis- 
cover no  saline  taste  whatever.  Many  streams  enter 
it  from  the  surrounding  snow-clad  mountains;  and 
it  discharges  southward  by  a river  called  the  Desa- 
guadero,  which  flows  with  a gentle  current  across  the 
Bolivian  plateau  for  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  into 
the  large,  shallow  lagoon  of  Poopo  or  Aullagas,  itself 
once  part  of  that  great  inland  sea  of  which  Titicaca 
is  now  the  largest  remnant.  This  lake  of  Poopo  has 
no  outlet  to  the  sea.  Part  of  its  water  is  licked  up 
by  the  fiery  sun  of  the  desert : the  rest  sinks  into  the 
sands  and  is  lost. 

We  spent  two  days  sailing  on  the  lake,  visiting  the 
famous  modern  shrine  of  the  Virgin  of  the  Light  at 
Copacavana  on  the  mainland  and  the  famous  ancient 
shrine  of  the  Rock  of  the  Sun  and  the  Wild  Cat  on  the 
island  of  Titicaca  which  has  given  its  name  to  the  lake. 
When  the  grey  clouds  brood  low  upon  the  hills,  stern 
and  gloomy  indeed  must  be  the  landscape  in  this 
bleak  land.  But  our  visit  fell  in  the  end  of  September, 
the  spring  of  Peru,  when  such  rains  as  there  are  had 
begun  to  refresh  the  land  after  the  arid  winter.  The 
sun  was  bright.  Only  a few  white  clouds  were  hanging 
high  in  air  or  clinging  to  the  slopes  of  the  distant  moun- 
tains ; and  the  watery  plain  over  which  we  moved  was 
a sheet  of  dazzling  blue.  The  blue  of  Titicaca  is  pecul- 
iar, not  deep  and  dark,  as  that  of  the  tropical  ocean, 
nor  opaque,  like  the  blue-green  of  Lake  Leman  nor  like 
that  warm  purple  of  the  .Egean  which  Homer  compares 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  127 


to  dark  red  wine,  but  a clear,  cold,  crystalline  blue,  even 
as  is  that  of  the  cold  sky  vaulted  over  it.  Even  in  this 
blazing  sunlight  it  had  that  sort  of  chilly  glitter  one 
sees  in  the  crevasses  of  a glacier;  and  the  wavelets 
sparkled  like  diamonds. 

The  Peruvian  shore  along  which  we  were  sailing  was 
steep  and  bold,  with  promontories  jutting  out  and 
rocky  islets  fringing  them.  Far  away  to  the  east 
across  the  shining  waters  the  Bolivian  coast  rose  in 
successive  brown  terraces,  flat-topped  hills  where  the 
land  was  tilled,  and  higher  up  bluish  grey  ridges  pass- 
ing into  a soft  lilac  as  they  receded,  and  farther 
still,  faint  yet  clear  in  the  northeast,  the  serrated 
lines  of  the  snowy  Cordillera  which  divides  the  lake 
basin  from  the  valleys  that  run  down  to  the  east  and 
the  Amazonian  forests.  There  was  something  of  mys- 
tery and  romance  in  these  far  distant  peaks,  which  few 
Europeans  have  ever  approached,  for  they  He  in  a dry 
region  almost  uninhabited  because  hardly  worth  in- 
habiting, — 

“a  waste  land  where  no  man  goes 
Or  hath  gone,  since  the  making  of  this  world.” 

The  nearer  and  higher  range  to  the  southeast  of  the 
lake,  which  the  natives  call  the  Cordillera  Real,  and 
geographers  the  range  of  Sorata,  was  almost  hidden  by 
the  thick  clouds  which  were  by  this  time  — for  it  was 
now  ten  o’clock,  and  the  sun  was  raising  vapours  from 
the  valleys  — gathering  on  its  snows,  and  not  till  the 
evening  did  its  grand  proportions  stand  disclosed. 
There  were  all  sorts  of  colours  in  the  landscape,  bright 


128 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


green  rushes  filling  the  shallow  bays,  deep  black  lava 
flows  from  a volcanic  peak  on  the  west,  and  a wonderful 
variety  of  yellows,  pinks,  and  violets  melting  into  each 
other  on  the  distant  hills.  But  the  predominant  tone, 
which  seems  to  embrace  all  the  rest  was  a grey-blue 
of  that  peculiar  pearly  quality  which  the  presence  of 
a large  body  of  smooth  water  gives.  Views  on  a great 
lake  can  be  more  impressive  than  almost  any  ocean 
views,  because  on  the  ocean  one  sees  only  a little  way 
around,  whereas,  where  distant  heights  are  visible 
beyond  the  expanse  of  a lake,  the  vastness  of  the  land- 
scape in  all  its  parts  is  realized.  Here  we  could  see  in 
two  different  directions  mountain  ranges  a hundred 
miles  away : and  the  immensity  was  solemn. 

The  village  of  Copacavana,  to  which  we  first  turned 
our  course,  stands  a little  above  the  lake  at  the  foot  of 
rocky  heights,  beyond  which  rises  a lofty  volcano,  said 
to  have  been  active  only  a century  ago.  Traces  of 
antiquity  are  found  in  the  polished  stone  seats,  two  on 
each  side  of  a higher  one,  called  the  Judgment  Seat  of 
the  Inca,  and  in  steps  cut  here  and  there,  all  in  the  hard 
rock,  their  form  resembling  that  of  those  near  Cuzco, 
described  in  the  last  chapter,  and  their  purpose  no  less 
obscure.1  Other  ruins  and  abundant  traditions  prove 
that  the  place  was  a noted  seat  of  worship  in  Inca  days. 
There  stood  on  it,  say  the  early  Spanish  chroniclers, 
not  only  gilded  and  silvered  figures  of  the  Sun  and 

1 Dr.  Uhle  has  suggested  that  the  so-called  seats  may  have  been 
places  on  which  to  set  images.  Mr.  Bingham  thinks  they  were 
more  probably  spots  on  which  priests  stood  to  salute  the  rising  sun 
by  wafting  kisses  with  their  hands,  a Peruvian  practice  described 
by  Calancha,  who  compares  the  book  of  Job,  chap,  xxxi,  v.  27. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  129 


Moon,  but  also  older  idols,  belonging  to  some  older 
local  religion,  one  in  particular  which  is  described  as 
having  a head  like  an  egg  with  a limbless  body, 
wreathed  with  snakes.  When  these  figures  and  their 
shrines  were  demolished,  a church  was  erected  on  the 
same  spot,  which  presently  became  famous  by  the  set- 
ting up  in  it  of  a sacred  image  of  Our  Lady.  It  is  the 
Santissima  Virgen  de  la  Candelaria,  carved  by  a scion 
of  the  Incas,  Francisco  Tito  Yupanqui,  in  a.d.  1583. 
This  image  had  been  seen  by  a pious  friar  to  send  out 
rays  of  fight  around  it : miracles  followed,  and  an 
Augustinian  monastery  was  founded  and  placed  in 
charge  of  the  sanctuary,  which  soon  became  the  most 
frequented  place  of  pilgrimage  through  all  South 
Amerca.  Even  from  Mexico  and  from  Europe  pil- 
grims come  hoping  for  the  cure  of  their  diseases.  The 
figure  is  about  a yard  high,  and  represents  a face  of 
the  Indian  type  in  features  and  colour,  though  less  dark 
than  the  equally  sacred  figure  of  the  Virgin  of  the 
Pillar  at  Saragosa  in  Spain.  It  wears  a crown  of  gold, 
with  a gold  halo  outside  the  crown,  has  a half  moon 
under  its  feet,  and  is  adorned  with  many  superb  gems. 
The  church  is  spacious  and  stately.  The  Camarin 
or  sacred  chamber  in  which  the  image  stands  is  be- 
hind the  great  altar  and  approached  by  two  stair- 
cases, the  stone  steps  much  worn  by  the  knees  of  the 
ascending  worshippers.  The  Augustinian  monks  were 
turned  out  in  1826,  after  the  revolutionary  war,  but 
recently  a few  Franciscans  have  been  settled  in  a home 
too  large  for  them,  so  the  wide  cloisters  are  melancholy, 


130 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  echo  to  few  footfalls.  Nevertheless  great  crowds 
of  Indians  still  resort  hither  twice  a year,  on  February  2, 
the  feast  of  the  Candelaria  (Candlemas),  and  on  August 
5 and  6.  Within  the  sacred  enclosure  which  surrounds 
the  church  is  a lofty  cupola  supported  by  columns, 
open  at  its  sides  so  that  the  three  tall  crosses  within  it 
are  visible,  and  roofed  in  a sort  of  Moorish  style  with 
bright  green  and  yellow  tiles,  of  the  kind  which  North 
Africa  has  borrowed  from  the  East.  Round  it  are  the 
accustomed  pilgrimage  “stations,”  and  at  the  corners 
of  the  court,  which  is  entered  by  a lofty  gateway  and 
planted  with  trees,  are  square  brick  buildings,  wherein 
lie  the  bones  of  pilgrims.  The  shining  tiles  of  this 
cupola,  with  the  similarly  decorated  dome  and  tower 
of  the  church  behind,  make  a striking  group,  whose 
half  Moorish  character  looks  strange  in  this  far  western 
land.  The  scene  at  the  great  festivals  when  the  ex- 
cited Indian  crowd  makes  church  and  court  resound 
with  hymns  in  Aymard,  and  when,  after  the  Christian 
services  of  the  day,  the  dances  of  primitive  heathendom 
are  kept  up  all  through  the  darkness  with  wild  shout- 
ings and  jumpings,  till  they  end  in  a sort  of  jig,  is 
described  as  strange  and  revolting.  These  dances  come 
down  from  a time  when  this  was  a seat  of  Indian  nature 
worship,  and  when  images  of  the  Sun  and  Moon  were 
taken  in  pomp  from  the  shrine  here  to  the  shrines  upon 
the  Sacred  Isles. 

To  those  isles  we  now  bent  our  course.  Delightful 
was  the  voyage  along  the  southern  shore  of  the  lake, 
past  shallow  bays  where  the  green  water  lapped  softly 
in  the  rushes;  across  the  openings  of  inlets  that  ran  far 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  131 


in  between  walls  of  rock,  with  new  islands  coming  into 
view  and  glimpses  of  newsnowpeaks  in  the  distance  rising 
behind  the  nearer  ranges,  all  flooded  by  a sunlight  that 
had  the  brilliance  without  the  sultry  power  of  the  tropics. 

Koati  or  Koyata,  the  Island  of  the  Moon,  is  said  to 
take  its  name  from  Koya,  the  Quichua  word  for 
queen,  the  Moon  being  the  wife  of  the  Sun,  whose  wor- 
ship the  Incas  established  wherever  their  power  ex- 
tended. The  isle  is  about  two  miles  long,  a steep  ridge, 
covered  in  parts  with  low  shrubs  and  grass ; the  rest 
cultivated,  the  slopes  being  carefully  terraced  to  the 
top.  The  most  interesting  group  of  ruins  stands  in  a 
beautiful  situation  some  sixty  feet  above  the  shore,  on 
the  uppermost  of  four  broad  terraces,  supported  by 
walls.  One  of  these  walls  is  of  the  finished  Cuzco  style 
of  stonework,  the  rectangular  blocks  w^ell  cut  and 
neatly  fitted  to  one  another.  It  is  probably  of  Inca 
date.  That  the  large  ruined  edifice  above  has  the  same 
origin  may  be  concluded  from  the  niches  which  occur 
in  the  walls  of  its  chambers.  The  purpose  of  such 
niches,  frequent  in  the  Cuzco  walls,  and  indeed  all 
over  Peru,  has  never  been  explained.  They  are  often 
too  shallow  for  cupboards  or  wardrobes,  and  too  high 
for  images,  yet  it  is  hard  to  suppose  them  meant  merely 
for  ornament.  This  edifice,  originally  in  two  stories, 
is  a mass  of  chambers,  mostly  small,  which  are  con- 
nected by  narrow  passages.  The  large  walled  court 
which  adjoins  it  is  adorned  by  stuccoed  niches.  The 
walls  are  well  preserved,  but  all  the  ceilings  and  roofs 
have  gone.  There  are  so  few  apertures  for  light 
that  it  is  hard,  as  in  most  of  the  ancient  Peruvian 


132 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


houses  to  understand  how  light  was  admitted.  Prob- 
ably light  was  sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  warmth,  for 
the  nights  are  extremely  cold,  even  in  summer.  Door- 
ways are  covered  sometimes  by  a single  slab,  sometimes 
by  flat  stones  projecting  each  beyond  the  other,  so  as  to 
have  the  effect  of  an  arch,  but  no  true  arch  ever  .seems 
to  have  been  found  in  Peru  or  anywhere  else  in  the 
Western  Hemisphere.  Sacrificial  objects,  dug  up  in 
front  of  the  building,  confirm  the  legend  that  the  place 
was  a shrine  of  the  Moon  Mother,  but  the  name  by  which 
it  has  been  known  is  the  Palace  of  the  Virgins  of  the 
Sun.  There  may,  therefore,  have  been  in  conjunction 
with  the  shrine  one  of  the  numerous  establishments  in 
which  the  Incas  kept  the  women  who  were  sent  up  to 
them  as  a tribute  from  the  provinces,  and  who,  among 
other  things,  wrove  fine  fabrics  and  made  various  articles 
needed  for  worship.  The  early  Spanish  writers,  with 
their  heads  full  of  Christian  nuns  and  Roman  Vestals, 
called  them  Virgins  of  the  Sun,  but  the  name  was  al- 
together inappropriate,  for  many  of  them  were  kept  as 
concubines  for  the  reigning  Inca. 

Four  miles  from  Koati  and  two  from  the  mainland, 
lies  the  larger  and  more  sacred  Island  of  the  Sun. 
It  is  ten  miles  long,  nowhere  more  than  a mile  wide, 
and  very  irregular  in  shape,  being  deeply  indented 
by  bays.  A ridge  of  hills,  rising  in  places  to  one 
thousand  feet  or  more,  traverses  it  from  end  to  end,  and 
much  of  the  surface  is  too  steep  and  rocky  for  tillage. 
There  are  many  groups  of  ruins  on  it,  the  origin  and 
character  of  some  among  which  have  given  rise  to  con- 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  133 


troversies  into  which  I need  not  enter,  proposing  to 
describe  two  only.  One  of  these  is  the  so-called 
Fountain,  or  Bath  and  Garden  of  the  Inca.  Two 
buildings  stand  on  the  shore,  evidently  of  a date 
anterior  to  the  Conquest,  and  one  was  probably  a royal 
residence.  The  most  recent  and  most  competent 
investigators  divide  them  into  two  classes:  those 
which  the  Indians  call  Chulpas,  and  are  the  work 
of  an  earlier  race  or  races,  and  those  which  they  ascribe 
to  the  Incas,  the  latter  being  larger  and  better  built, 
and  accompanied  by  pottery,  weapons,  and  other  relics, 
indicating  a more  advanced  culture.  Hard  by  a flight  of 
low  steps,  rising  from  the  water  through  a grove  of  trees, 
leads  up  to  a spot  where  a rivulet,  led  in  a channel  from 
the  hill  above,  pours  itself  into  a receptacle  hewed  out 
of  one  piece  of  stone,  whence  it  pursues  its  course  in  a 
murmuring  rill  to  the  lake  below.  The  terraced  garden 
on  each  side  is  planted  with  flowers,  most  of  which  are  the 
same  as  those  in  European  or  North  American  gardens; 
but  the  brilliant  red  blossoms  of  the  shrub  called  the 
Flor  del  Inca  give  a true  local  colour,  and  the  view  over 
the  lake  to  the  distant  snows  is  unlike  anything  else 
in  the  world.  How  much  of  the  beauty  we  now  see 
was  planned  by  the  unknown  monarch,  who  first  made 
these  terraces,  and  did  the  spot  commend  itself  to  him 
by  the  wonderful  prospect  it  commands  ? Most  of  the 
so-called  palaces  of  these  isles  occupy  sites  that  look 
across  the  lake  to  the  great  snowy  range,  but  a learned 
archaeologist  suggests  that  this  was  due  not  to  admiration 
of  their  grandeur,  but  to  veneration  for  them  as  potent 


134 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


deities  so  that  they  might  be  more  readily  and  fre- 
quently adored. 

On  this  majestic  range  our  eyes  had  been  fixed  all  day 
long.  Its  northernmost  summit,  Illampu,  stands  more 
than  twenty  miles  back  from  the  eastern  shore  of  the 
lake,  and  more  than  thirty  miles  from  the  Island^of  the 
Sun.  Thence  the  chain  trends  southward,  ending  one 
hundred  miles  away  in  the  gigantic  Illimani,  which 
looks  down  upon  La  Paz.  All  day  long  we  had  watched 
the  white  clouds  rise  and  gather,  and  swathe  the  great 
peaks  and  rest  in  the  glacier  hollows  between  them,  and 
seem  to  dissolve  or  move  away,  leaving  some  top  clear 
for  a moment,  and  then  settle  down  again,  just  as  one 
sees  the  vapours  that  rise  from  the  Lombard  plain  form 
into  clouds  that  float  round  and  enwrap  Monte  Rosa 
during  the  heats  of  a summer  day.  Evening  was  be- 
ginning to  fall  when  our  vessel,  after  coasting  along 
the  island,  anchored  in  the  secluded  bay  of  Challa, 
where,  behind  a rocky  cape,  there  is  an  Indian  hamlet  and 
a garden  and  stone  tank  like  that  at  the  Bath  of  the 
Inca.  We  landed  and  rambled  through  it,  finding 
its  thick  trees  and  rustling  shade  specially  charm- 
ing in  this  bare  land.  Just  as  we  emerged  from  them 
and  regained  the  lake  shore,  the  sun  was  setting, 
and  as  the  air  cooled,  the  clouds  that  draped  the  moun- 
tains thinned  and  scattered  and  suddenly  vanished,  and 
the  majestic  line  of  pinnacles  stood  out,  glowing  rosy  red 
in  the  level  sunlight,  and  then  turned  in  a few  moments 
to  a ghostly  white,  doubly  ghostly  against  a deep  blue- 
grey  sky,  as  swift  black  night  began  to  descend. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  135 


Early  next  morning  we  set  off  on  foot  along  the  track, 
well  beaten  by  the  feet  of  many  generations  of  worship- 
pers, which  leads  along  the  rocky  slopes  from  Challa  to 
the  Sanctuary  of  the  Rock.  Here  are  no  houses,  for 
this  end  of  the  isle  is  rough  and  bare,  giving  only  scanty 
pasture  and  a few  aromatic  flowers,  but  the  little 
bays  where  the  green  water  ripples  on  the  sands,  and  the 
picturesque  cliffs,  and  the  vast  stretch  of  lake  beyond, 
made  every  step  delightful.  To  our  surprise  we  passed 
a spot  where  some  enterprising  stranger  had  bored  for 
coal  and  found  a bed,  but  not  worth  working.  One 
could  hardly  be  sorry,  for  though  fuel  is  badly  needed 
here,  a colliery  and  its  chimney  would  fit  neither  the  land- 
scape nor  the  associations.  Less  than  three  miles’ 
walking  brought  us  to  a place  where  the  remains  of  a wall 
cross  the  island,  here  scarcely  a mile  wide,  and  seem  to 
mark  off  the  sacred  part  which  in  Inca  days  was  entered 
only  for  the  purposes  of  worship.  A little  farther,  two 
marks  in  the  rock,  resembling  giant  footprints,  are, 
according  to  Indian  tradition,  the  footprints  of  the 
Sun  God  and  the  Moon  Goddess,  when  they  appeared 
here.  The  marks  are  obviously  natural  and  due  to  the 
form  in  which  a softer  bit  of  the  sandstone  rock  has 
scaled  off  and  left  a whitish  surface,  while  the  harder 
part,  probably  containing  a little  more  iron,  as  it  is 
browner  in  hue,  has  been  less  affected  by  the  elements. 
Then,  after  ascending  a few  low  steps  which  seem  to  be 
ancient,  we  came  out  on  a level  space  of  grass  in  front 
of  a ridge  of  rock  about  twenty-five  feet  high.  This  is 
Titi  Kala,  the  Sacred  Rock,  the  centre  of  the  most 


136 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ancient  mythology  of  South  America.  Its  face,  which 
looks  southwest  over  this  space  of  grass,  apparently 
artificially  levelled,  is  on  that  side  precipitous,  present- 
ing a not  quite  smooth  face  in  which  veins  of  slightly 
different  colours  of  brown  and  yellowish  grey  are  seen. 
At  one  point  these  veins  so  run  as  to  presefft  some- 
thing like  the  head  of  a wild  cat  or  puma ; and  as  Titi 
means  a wild  cat  in  Aymara,  and  Kala,  or  Kaka  a rock, 
this  is  supposed  to  be  the  origin  of  the  name  Titi  Kala, 
which  has  been  extended  from  the  rock  to  the  island  and 
from  the  island  to  the  lake.1 

The  rock  is  composed  of  a light  yellowish  brown 
rather  hard  sandstone  of  carboniferous  age,  with  a slaty 
cleavage.  The  back  of  the  ridge  is  convex,  and  is  easily 
climbed.  From  it  the  ground  falls  rapidly  to  the  lake, 
about  three  hundred  feet  below.  Except  for  what  may 
possibly  be  an  artificial  incision  at  the  top,  the  rock 
appears  to  be  entirely  in  its  natural  state,  the  cave-like 
hollow  at  its  base  shewing  no  sign  of  man’s  handiwork. 
Neither  does  any  existing  building  touch  it.  There 
are,  however,  traces  of  walls  enclosing  the  space  in  front 
of  it,  especially  on  the  north  side,  where  there  seems 
to  have  been  a walled-in  enclosure ; and  there  are 
other  ancient  remains  hard  by.  The  only  one 
of  these  sufficiently  preserved  to  enable  us  to  conjec- 
ture its  purpose  is  a somewhat  perplexing  two-storied 
edifice,  resembling,  though  less  large  and  handsome, 
that  which  I have  described  as  existing  on  the  island 

1 Lake  Titicaca  was  originally,  it  would  seem,  called  the  lake  of 
Chucuito,  from  an  ancient  town  on  its  western  shore. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  137 


of  Koati.  It  is  called  the  Chingana,  or  Labyrinth,  and 
doubtless  dates  from  Inca  times,  as  it  contains  niches 
and  other  features  characteristic  of  the  architecture  of 
that  period.  The  numerous  rooms  are  small,  scantily 
lighted,  and  connected  by  narrow  passages.  A few 
flowers  had  rooted  on  the  top  of  the  walls,  and  I found 
tufts  of  maidenhair  fern  nestling  in  the  moist,  dark  cor- 
ners within.  All  the  roofs  have  perished.  There  is 
nothing  to  suggest  a place  of  worship,  so  probably 
the  building  contained  the  quarters  provided  for  the 
various  attendants  on  the  religious  rites  performed  here, 
and  perhaps  also  for  the  women  who  were  kept  near 
many  sanctuaries  and  palaces  for  the  service  of  the 
Sun  and  the  Incas.  None  of  the  other  ruins  is  identi- 
fiable as  a temple,  so  we  are  left  in  doubt  whether  any 
temple  that  may  have  existed  was  destroyed  by  the  zeal 
of  the  Spanish  Conquerors,  or  whether  the  worship  of  the 
Sun  and  the  local  spirits  was  conducted  in  the  open  air 
in  front  of  the  Rock,  whose  surface  was,  according 
to  some  rather  doubtful  authorities,  covered  with  plates 
of  gold  and  silver.  In  front  of  the  Rock  there  lies  a flat 
stone  which  it  has  been  conjectured  may  have  been  used 
for  sacrifices.  All  our  authorities  agree  that  the  place 
was  most  sacred.  Some  say  no  one  was  allowed  to 
touch  it ; and  at  it  oracles  were  delivered,  which  the 
Spaniards  accepted  as  real,  while  attributing  them  to 
devils  who  dwelt  inside  the  rock.  Of  the  many  legends 
relating  to  the  place  only  two  need  be  mentioned.  One 
is  that  here  the  Sun,  pitying  the  barbarous  and  wretched 
condition  of  men,  took  his  two  children,  Manco  Capac 


138 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  Mama  (mother)  Occlo,  and  giving  them  a short  staff 
or  wand  of  gold,  directed  them  to  go  forward,  till  they 
should  find  a place  where  the  staff  on  being  struck 
against  the  ground  entered  and  stuck  fast.  They 
travelled  to  the  north  for  many  days,  and  the  wand 
finally  entered  the  earth  at  Cuzco,  where  they^  accord- 
ingly built  a city  and  founded  their  dominion,  Manco 
being  the  first  of  the  Inca  dynasty.  The  other  tale  is 
that  for  a long,  long  time  there  was  darkness  over  the 
earth  and  great  sorrow  among  men  till  at  last  the  Sun 
suddenly  rose  out  of  the  Rock  on  Titicaca,  which  was 
thenceforward  sacred  and  a place  of  sacrifice  and  oracles. 
Other  traditions,  more  or  less  differing  from  these  in 
details,  agree  in  making  Titicaca  the  original  home  of 
the  Incas,  and  one  of  them  curiously  recalls  a Mexican 
story  by  placing  on  it  a great  foreign  Teacher  whom 
the  Spaniards  identified  with  St.  Thomas  the  Apostle.1 
In  these  stories,  some  written  down  by  Spanish  ex- 
plorers or  treasure  seekers  at  the  time  of  the  Con- 
quest or  collected  subsequently  by  learned  ecclesias- 
tics, some  still  surviving,  with  grotesque  variations, 
in  the  minds  of  the  peasantry,  we  may  distinguish 

1 St.  Thomas,  according  to  an  early  legend,  preached  the  Gospel 
on  the  coast  of  Malabar,  so  the  Spanish  ecclesiastics  when  they 
came  to  Mexico  and  Peru  and  heard  tales  of  a wise  deity  or  semi- 
divine teacher  who  had  long  ago  appeared  among  the  natives,  con- 
cluded this  must  have  been  the  Apostle,  the  idea  of  the  connection  of 
Eastern  Asia  with  these  new  Western  lands  being  still  in  their  minds. 

In  the  ancient  city  of  Tlascala  in  Mexico  I have  seen  a picture 
representing  St.  Thomas  preaching  to  the  natives  in  the  guise  of  the 
Mexican  deity  Quetzalcoatl,  the  Feathered  Snake.  St.  Thomas  is 
depicted  as  half  serpent,  half  bird,  but  with  a human  head. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  139 


three  salient  points,  — first,  the  veneration  for  the 
Rock  as  an  object;  secondly,  its  close  relation  to  Sun 
worship  ; and  thirdly,  its  connection  with  the  Inca  rulers 
of  Cuzco.  It  is  a plausible  view  that  from  ancient 
pre-Inca  times  the  Rock  was  a Huaca  or  sacred  object  (in 
fact  a fetish,  i.e.  an  object  inhabited  by  a spirit)  to  the 
primitive  tribes  of  the  island  and  lake  coasts,  as  the 
cleft  rock  of  Delphi  was  to  the  Greeks,  even  as  the  Black 
Stone  which  they  called  the  Mother  of  the  gods  was 
to  the  Phrygian  worshippers  of  Cybele,  as  perhaps  the 
Stone  of  Tara — perhaps  even  the  Lia  Fail  or  Coronation 
Stone  of  Scone  and  now  of  Westminster  Abbey — was  to 
our  Celtic  ancestors.  When  the  Incas  established  their 
dominion  over  the  region  round  the  lake  they  made  this 
spot  a sanctuary  of  the  sun,  following  their  settled  policy 
of  superadding  the  imperial  religion  of  Sun  worship — the 
Sun  being  their  celestial  progenitor  — to  the  primitive 
veneration  and  propitiation  of  local  spirits  which  their 
subjects  practised.  It  was  thus  that  the  Roman  Em- 
perors added  the  worship  of  the  goddess  of  Rome  to  that 
of  the  local  deities  of  Western  Asia  and  Africa  and  set 
up  to  her  great  temples,  like  that  at  Pergamos,  among 
and  above  the  older  shrines.  If  there  be  truth  in 
the  legend  that  the  Incas  were  themselves  originally 
a tribe  of  the  Collas  of  the  plateau  wTho  quitted 
their  former  seats  to  go  northward  to  the  conquest 
of  Cuzco,  it  would  be  all  the  more  natural  for  them  to 
honour  this  sanctuary  as  an  ancient  home  of  their  race. 

The  isle  seems  to  have  been  abandoned  and  the  wor- 
ship forbidden  soon  after  the  Conquest.  No  Christian 


140 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


church  was  ever  placed  near  it,  as  might  have  been  done 
if  it  were  deemed  necessary  to  wean  the  people  from 
rites  still  practised  there.  What  the  early  Spanish 
chroniclers  tell  us  of  the  devotion  paid  to  it  is  amply 
confirmed  by  the  religious  ornaments  and  the  numer- 
ous objects  connected  with  worship  which  have  been 
dug  up  near  the  Rock,  including  woollen  ponchos  of  ex- 
traordinary fineness  of  workmanship  and  colour,  and 
golden  figures  of  men  (or  deities)  and  of  llamas,  the 
llama  being  a sacred  animal  like  the  bull  in  Egypt. 
The  native  Indians  still  approach  the  Rock  with 
awe.  Lightning  and  Thunder,  as  well  as  the  Sun 
and  the  local  spirits  were  worshipped,  and  human  sac- 
rifices, frequently  of  children,  were  offered.  Standing 
on  this  lonely  spot  one  thinks  of  what  it  may  have  wit- 
nessed in  old  days.  What  weird  dances  and  wild  up- 
roar of  drums  and  pipes  before  the  Rock,  and  still 
wilder  songs  and  cries  of  frenzied  worshippers  ! What 
shrieks  of  victims  from  the  Stone  of  Sacrifice!  Now 
all  is  silence,  and  nothing,  except  the  crumbling  ruins 
of  the  Chingana,  speaks  of  the  past.  No  sound  except 
the  sighing  of  the  breeze  round  the  cliff  and  the  splash 
of  the  wavelets  as  they  break  on  the  pebbly  beach 
beneath.  There  is  no  habitation  near.  The  green 
outlying  islets,  one  of  which  is  said  to  have  run  with 
the  blood  of  human  sacrifices,  are  all  desolate.  The 
villages  on  the  Bolivian  shore  to  the  east  and  the  Peru- 
vian shore  to  the  west  are  too  distant  to  be  visible,  while 
to  the  north  the  vast  expanse  of  glittering  blue  stretches 
out  till  the  blue  depths  of  heaven  bend  to  meet  it. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  141 


Bidding  farewell  to  the  Island  of  the  Sun,  we  sailed 
southward  through  the  Straits  of  Tiquina,  only  half  a 
mile  wide,  which  connect  the  principal  lake  with  the 
shallower  gulf  at  its  southeastern  end,  called  the  Lake 
of  Vinamarca.  On  each  side  of  the  channel  between 
heights  whose  igneous  rocks  seemed  to  indicate  volcanic 
action  are  picturesque  little  Indian  villages,  St.  Paul 
on  the  southwestern,  St.  Peter  on  the  northeastern  shore. 
It  was  market  day,  and  the  balsas  were  carrying  the 
peasants  homeward.  I have  already  referred  to  these 
raft-like  boats,  formed  of  bundles  of  Totora  tied  together, 
and  equipped  with  a small  mast  carrying  a sail  also  of 
the  same  kind  of  rush.  There  were  only  passengers 
upon  these,  but  the  rushes  are  so  much  lighter  than 
water  that  they  can  support  a considerable  weight. 
Large  blocks  of  building  stone  are  often  carried  on 
them.  The  Indians  wrere  kneeling  on  them  and  pad- 
dling, one  on  each  side.  Progress  was  slow,  but  in  this 
country  time  is  no  object;  it  is  almost  the  only  thing 
of  which  there  is  more  than  enough  in  Bolivia. 

We  had  now  got  nearer  to  the  great  Cordillera  Real, 
the  range  of  unbroken  snow  and  ice  which  runs  south- 
ward from  the  village  of  Sorata  nearly  to  the  city  of  La 
Paz,  and  could  better  make  out  the  several  peaks  and 
the  passes  which  separate  them  and  the  splendid  glaciers 
which  stream  down  their  hollows  far  below  the  line  of 
perpetual  snow.  Eight  or  nine  great  masses  can  be 
distinguished,  the  loftiest  and  northernmost  of  which, 
Illampu,  is  nearly  22,000  feet  high,  the  rest  ranging 
from  19,000  to  21,000. 


142 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Illampu  consists  of  two  peaks  and  is  the  mountain 
which  European  travellers  and  maps  call  Sorata,  from 
the  town  of  that  name  near  its  northern  base.  It  con- 
sists of  two  peaks,  the  higher  of  snow,  called  by  the 
natives,  Hanko  Uma,1  and  the  slightly  lower  one,  of 
rock,  Illampu  proper.  This,  which  is  the  loftiest  of 
the  range,  and  was  sixty  or  seventy  years  ago  be- 
lieved to  be  the  loftiest  in  the  western  hemisphere,  was 
climbed  by  Sir  Martin  Conway,  who  has  described  his 
ascent  and  his  other  adventures  in  Bolivia,  in  a very  in- 
teresting book,2  but  he  found  the  last  slope  just  below 
the  top  so  unstable,  owing  to  the  powdery  condition 
of  the  snow,  that  he  was  obliged  to  turn  back.  So  far 
as  I know,  no  other  summit  of  the  range,  unless"  Illi- 
mani is  to  be  accounted  a part  of  it,  has  ever  been 
ascended.  At  the  end  of  the  chain  the  splendid  pyramid  of 
Kaka  Aka,  also  called  Huayna  Potosi,  seems  to  approach 
21,000.  After  it  the  range  sinks  a little  till  it  rises  again 
fifty  miles  farther  south  to  over  21,000  feet  in  the  snowy 
summit  of  Illimani.  The  Aymaras  seem  to  have  no 
special  names  for  most  of  these  peaks,  and  when  asked 
for  one  answer  that  it  is  Kunu  Kollu  (a  snow  height)  .3 
That  is  the  case  in  many  other  mountainous  countries. 
Neither  in  the  White  Mountains  of  North  America 
nor  in  the  Rockies  and  Cascades  do  the  aborigines 

1 Sir  M.  Conway  gives  the  height  of  the  higher  peak  Ancohuma 
(Hanko  Uma)  at  21,490.  The  loftiest  summits  in  Peru  seem  to  be 
Huasearan  (some  way  N.N.E.  of  Lima),  about  22,150  feet,  and  Co- 
ropuna  (see  p.  57),  21,700  feet.  Aconcagua  in  Chile  is  the  culminat- 
ing point  of  the  Andes  and  the  whole  Western  World  (see  p.  260). 

2 Climbing  and  Exploration  in  the  Bolivian  Andes,  1901. 

3 See  Bandelier,  Islands  of  Titicaca  and  Koati,  ch.  I,  and  notes. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  143 


seem  to  have  had  names  for  more  than  a few  separate 
peaks.  Names  were  not  needed,  for  they  seldom  ap- 
proached the  great  heights.  On  the  other  hand,  in 
Scotland  and  Ireland  every  hill  has  its  Gaelic  name 
because  the  herdsmen  had  occasion  to  traverse  them. 
In  the  Tatra  Mountains  of  Northern  Hungary  almost 
the  only  names  of  peaks  are  those  taken  from  villages 
near  their  foot.  Here  the  tract  at  the  foot  of  the  range 
is  desert ; nobody,  unless  possibly  a hunter  now  and 
then  pursuing  a vicuna,  has  any  reason  for  approach- 
ing it. 

The  Cordillera  Real  is  not  of  volcanic  origin,  though 
there  may  be  recent  eruptive  rocks  here  and  there 
in  it.  None  of  the  great  summits  shew  the  forms 
characteristic  of  the  volcano,  and  my  friend  Sir  M. 
Conway  tells  me  that  all  the  rocks  he  saw  seemed  to 
be  granite  and  gneiss  or  mica  schist,  or  perhaps  very 
old  palseozoic  strata.  The  region  has  been  very  little 
explored.  There  must  be  some  superb  glacier  passes 
across  it. 

The  scenery  of  this  lake  of  Vinamarca,  which  we 
were  now  traversing,  has  a grand  background  in  the 
Snowy  Range,  but  the  foreground  is  unlike  that  of 
Titicaca,  for  the  shores  are  mostly  low,  shallow  bays 
covered  with  water  plants,  over  which  flocks  of  lake 
fowl  flutter,  with  the  hills  softer  in  outline  than  those 
of  the  great  lake,  though  stranger  and  more  varied  in 
colour,  for  black  masses  of  volcanic  rock  rise  on 
the  north  and  bare  hills  of  a deep  red  on  the  south- 
west. Here  is  the  point  where  the  river  Desaguadero 


144 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


flows  out  and  a little  to  the  east  is  the  port  of  Guaqui 
whence  runs  the  railway  to  La  Paz.  Here  we  halted  for 
the  night,  a very  cold  one,  and  set  off  in  a cold  morning 
for  the  Bolivian  capital.  An  open  valley  runs  south  be- 
tween flat-topped  stony  ridges  affording  thin  pasturage, 
past  clusters  of  Indian  huts ; and  after  some  few  piiles, 
we  see  huge  blocks  of  stone  scattered  over  a wide  space 
of  almost  level  ground.  These  are  the  last  ruins  I 
have  to  mention,  and  in  some  respects  they  form  the 
most  remarkable  group  of  prehistoric  structures  not 
only  in  the  Andean  countries,  but  in  the  Western  Hemi- 
sphere. I will  not  attempt  to  describe  them,  for  they 
are  too  numerous  and  too  chaotic,  but  only  to  convey 
some  impression  of  the  more  significant  objects.  The 
place  is  Tiahuanaco,  or  Tihuamacu,  as  the  Indians  of 
the  neighbourhood  call  it. 

The  configuration  of  the  ground,  and  the  remains  of 
what  seems  to  have  been  an  ancient  mole  for  the 
landing  of  boats,  suggest  that  in  remote  ages  the 
waters  of  the  lake  came  close  up  to  this  spot,  though 
it  is  now  five  miles  distant.  I have  already  remarked 
that  the  character  of  the  western  and  northern  shores  of 
Titicaca,  as  well  as  Indian  traditions  that  places  now 
far  from  the  shore  were  once  approachable  by  water, 
seem  to  indicate  that  the  lake  has  receded  within  his- 
torical times  and  may  be  still  receding.  The  ruins  are 
scattered  over  a very  large  area,  Dut  those  of  most  in- 
terest are  to  be  found  within  a space  of  about  half  a 
square  mile,  the  rest  being  mostly  detached  and  scat- 
tered blocks  to  which  it  is  hard  to  assign  any  definite 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  145 


plan  or  purpose.  Within  this  space  three  deserve 
special  notice.  One  is  a huge,  oblong  mound  of  earth, 
about  fifty  feet  high,  with  steep  sides  supported 
by  stone  walls.  It  has  been  called  the  Fortress,  but 
there  are  now  no  traces  of  defensive  ramparts,  and  it 
may  have  been  raised  for  a palace  or,  more  probably,  for 
some  religious  purpose.  That  it  was  a natural  hill  seems 
unlikely.  There  are  no  remains  on  it  of  any  large  and 
solid  building  and  in  the  middle  there  is  now  a hollow,  its 
bottom  filled  with  water,  which  is  said  to  have  been  dug 
out  by  those  who  have  excavated  here,  in  old  days  for 
treasure,  and  more  recently  for  archaeological  purposes. 
Its  vast  proportions  and  the  fine  cutting  of  the  stones 
which  are  placed  along  the  edges  are  evidences  of  the 
great  amount  of  labour  employed  upon  it. 

A little  below  the  mound  are  the  remains  of  a broad 
staircase  of  long,  low  steps  of  sandstone,  well  cut,  standing 
between  two  pillars  of  hard  diorite  rock.  These  led  up 
to  a platform,  on  which  a temple  may  have  stood.  The 
proportions  of  the  staircase  and  the  pillars  are  good,  and 
the  effect  is  not  without  stateliness.  No  fragments  of  the 
supposed  temple  remain,  but  on  the  platform  there  are 
many  stone  figures,  some  found  on  it,  some  brought  from 
the  ground  beneath  and  placed  here,  heads  of  animals, 
condors  and  other  birds,  pumas  and  fishes,  all  forcibly, 
though  rudely,  carved.  Still  more  notable  is  a human 
head  surmounting  a square  pillar  or  pedestal.  It  is 
much  damaged,  and  no  wonder,  for  the  Bolivian  soldiers 
used  it  as  a mark  to  shoot  at;  but  though  the  execution 
is  stiff,  the  head  has  a certain  dignity.  Two  other 


146 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


human  figures,  sadly  defaced,  stand  at  the  gate  of  the 
village  churchyard,  a mile  away.  The  style  of  all  these 
is  said  to  bear  some  resemblance  to  the  remarkable 
colossal  figures  found  on  Easter  Island,  which  lies  out 
in  the  Pacific,  two  thousand  miles  west  of  Chile,  and 
which  are  evidently  the  work  of  some  race  that  in- 
habited that  isle  in  ages  of  which  no  record  remains. 

The  most  striking  object,  however,  is  the  monolithic 
sculptured  gateway,  which  now  stands  alone,  the  build- 
ing of  which  it  formed  a part  having  perished.  It  is 
hewn  out  of  one  block  of  dark  grey  trachytic  rock,  is 
ten  feet  high,  the  doorway  or  aperture  four  and  a half 
feet  high  from  the  ground  and  two  feet  nine  inches  wide. 
Its  top  has  been  broken,  whether  by  lightning,  as  the 
Indians  say,  or  by  its  fall,  or  by  the  Spanish  extirpators 
of  idolatry,  is  not  known.  Thirty  years  ago  it  was  lying 
prostrate.  The  front  is  covered  with  elaborate  carvings 
in  low  relief,  executed  with  admirable  exactness  and  del- 
icacy, and  owing  their  almost  perfect  preservation  to  the 
extreme  hardness  of  the  stone.  They  represent  what 
may  be  either  a divine  or  a royal  head,  surrounded  by 
many  small  kneeling  figures  with  animal  heads,  some 
human,  some  of  the  puma,  some  of  the  condor,  these 
being  the  largest  quadruped  and  the  largest  bird  of  prey 
in  the  Andes.  The  treatment  is  conventional  and  the 
symbolism  obscure,  for  we  have  no  clue  to  the  religion 
of  the  people  who  built  these  monuments.  The  associa- 
tion of  animal  forms  with  deities  is  a familiar  thing  in 
many  ancient  mythologies,  — human  figures  had  animal 
heads  in  Egypt,  and  bulls  and  lions  had  human  heads  in 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  14? 


Assyria,  — so  one  may  guess  at  something  of  the  kind 
in  Peruvian  mythology.  But  these  sculptures  are  un- 
like anything  else  in  South  America,  or  in  the  Old 
World,  and  bear  only  a faint  resemblance  to  some  of 
the  figures  in  Central  American  temples.1  This  sculp- 
tured portal,  the  unique  record  of  a long-vanished  art 
and  worship,  perhaps  of  a long-vanished  race,  makes  an 
impression  which  remains  fresh  and  clear  in  memory, 
because  it  appeals  to  one’s  imagination  as  the  single 
and  solitary  voice  from  the  darkness  of  a lost  past. 

All  over  the  flat  valley  bottom  there  lie  scattered 
huge  hewn  blocks,  some  of  the  sandstone  which  is 
here  the  underlying  rock,  some  of  andesite  apparently 
brought  on  balsas  from  quarries  many  miles  away 
(when  perhaps  the  lake  water  came  up  this  far.  I meas- 
ured one  massive  prostrate  stone  lying  near  the  stair- 
case and  found  it  to  be  thirty-four  feet  long  by  five 
feet  wide  with  one  and  one-half  feet  out  of  the  ground. 
How  much  there  was  below  ground  could  not  be  ascer- 
tained. Yet  the  stones  that  remain  to-day  scattered 
over  a space  more  than  a mile  long  are  few  compared  to 
those  which  have  during  centuries  past  been  carried 
away.  The  church  and  many  of  the  houses  in  the  vil- 
lage are  built  of  them.  The  Cathedral  and  other  edifices 
in  La  Paz  have  been  built  of  them,  and  within  the  last 
ten  years  five  hundred  train-loads  of  them  were  carried 
off  by  the  constructors  of  the  railway  to  build  bridges, 

1 They  have  some  likeness  to  the  carved  stone  found  at  Chavin 
in  northern  Peru,  figured  in  Sir  C.  Markham’s  The  Incas  of  Peru, 
p 34.  There  was  also  found  lately  in  a grave  near  Lima  a textile 
fabric  with  a pattern  resembling  this. 


148 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


station  houses,  and  what  not,  along  the  line.  It  is  pith 
able  to  think  that  this  destruction  of  the  most  remark- 
able prehistoric  monument  in  the  western  world  should 
have  been  consummated  in  our  own  days. 

Whether  there  was  ever  a city  at  Tiahuanaco  there  is 
nothing  to  shew.  The  place  may  have  been^merely  a 
sanctuary  or,  perhaps,  a royal  fortress  and  place  of  wor- 
ship combined.  If  there  was  ever  a population  of  the 
humble  class,  they  lived  in  mud  huts  which  would 
quickly  disappear  and  leave  no  trace.  The  modern 
village  is  composed  of  such  huts,  with  some  of  the 
stones  of  the  ruins  used  as  foundations.  Neverthe- 
less the  size  of  the  church  and  its  unusually  rich 
decoration,  and  its  handsome  silver  altar,  suggest  that 
the  place  was  formerly  more  important  than  it  is  to- 
day. Pottery  and  small  ornaments  are  still  found  in 
the  earth,  though  the  treasures,  if  ever  there  were  any, 
have  been  carried  off  long  ago.  An  arrow  point  of 
obsidian,  which  an  Indian  shewed  me,  was  interesting 
as  evidence  that  the  ancient  inhabitants  used  bows  and 
were  not,  as  apparently  were  the  Peruvians  of  Cuzco, 
content  with  slings  as  missile  weapons.1 

The  valley  is  fertile,  and  much  of  it  cultivated,  but  at 
this  season,  before  the  crops  had  begun  to  pierce  the 
earth,  it  was  very  dreary.  The  brown  hills  all  around  are 
themselves  bare  and  featureless,  and  they  cut  off  the 
view  of  the  snowy  Cordillera  and  of  the  lake.  The  sight 

1 The  arrow  point  may  however  have  been  brought  from  the 
northeastern  shores  of  Titicaca.  Mr.  Bingham  tells  me  that  such 
obsidian  tips  are  sometimes  found  in  auriferous  gravels  there. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  149 


of  this  mass  of  ruins,  where  hardly  one  stone  is  left  upon 
another  in  a place  where  thousands  of  men  must  have 
toiled  and  many  thousands  have  worshipped,  makes  its 
melancholy  landscape  all  the  more  doleful.  It  recalls 
the  descriptions  in  the  Hebrew  prophets  of  the  desola- 
tion coming  upon  Nineveh. 

Aymara  tradition,  with  its  vague  tales  of  giants  who 
reared  the  mound  and  walls  and  of  a deity  who  in  dis- 
pleasure turned  the  builders  into  stones  and  for  a while 
darkened  the  world,  has  nothing  more  to  tell  us  than  the 
aspect  of  the  place  suggests,  viz.,  that  here  dwelt  a people 
possessed  of  great  skill  in  stone  work  and  obeying 
rulers  who  had  a great  command  of  labour,  and  that  this 
race  has  vanished,  leaving  no  other  trace  behind.  Upon 
one  point  all  observers  and  all  students  are  agreed. 
When  the  first  Spanish  conquerors  came  hither,  they 
were  at  once  struck  by  the  difference  between  these 
works  and  those  of  the  Incas  which  they  had  seen  at 
Cuzco  and  elsewhere  in  Peru.  The  Indians  whom  they 
questioned  told  them  that  the  men  who  built  these 
things  had  lived  long,  long  before  their  own  forefathers. 
Who  the  builders  were,  whence  they  came,  how  and 
when  and  whither  they  disappeared  — of  all  this  the 
Indians  knew  no  more  than  the  Spaniards  themselves 
knew,  or  than  we  know  now.  The  width  of  the  inter- 
val between  the  greatness  of  Tiahuanaco  and  the  Con- 
quest appears  also  by  the  fact  that  the  Inca  sovereigns 
had  not  treated  it  as  a sacred  spot  in  the  way  they  did 
the  shrine  at  Copacavana  or  the  islands  in  Titicaca,  nor 
has  it  to-day  any  special  sanctity  to  the  Indians  of 


150 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  neighbourhood.  To  them  it  is  only  what  the  Pyra- 
mids are  to  a wandering  Arab  or  Stonehenge  to  a Wilt- 
shire peasant.  The  one  thing  which  the  walls  have 
in  common  with  those  in  and  around  Cuzco  is  the 
excellence  of  the  stonework.  The  style  of  building  is 
different,  but  the  cutting  itself  is  equally  exact  and 
regular.  This  art  would  seem  to  have  arisen  early 
among  the  races  of  the  plateau,  doubtless  because  the 
absence  of  wood  turned  artistic  effort  towards  ex- 
cellence in  stone. 

One  receives  the  impression  here,  as  in  some  other 
parts  of  Peru,  that  the  semi-civilization,  if  we  may 
call  it  so,  of  these  regions  is  extremely  ancient.  We 
seem  to  look  back  upon  a vista  whose  length  it  is 
impossible  to  conjecture,  a vista  of  many  ages,  during 
which  this  has  been  the  home  of  peoples  already  emerged 
from  such  mere  savagery  as  that  in  which  the  natives 
of  the  Amazonian  forests  still  lie.  But  how  many  ages 
the  process  of  emergence  occupied,  and  how  many 
more  followed  down  to  the  Spanish  Conquest  we  may 
never  come  to  know. 

It  is  possible  that  immigrants  may  at  some  time,  long 
subsequent  to  the  colonization  of  America  by  way  of 
Behring’s  Sea,  have  found  their  way  hither  across  the 
waters  of  the  Pacific.  The  similarity  of  the  figures  on 
Easter  Island  to  the  figures  at  Tiahuanaco  has  been 
thought  to  suggest  such  a possibility.  Those  figures  are, 
I believe,  unlike  anything  in  any  other  Pacific  island. 

Archaeological  research,  however,  does  not  suggest, 
any  more  than  does  historical  enquiry,  the  existence  of 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  151 


any  external  influence  affecting  the  South  American 
races.  We  may  reasonably  assume  that  among  them, 
as  in  Europe,  the  contact  and  intermixture  of  different 
stocks  and  types  of  character  and  culture  made  for 
advancement.  But  this  great  factor  in  the  progress  of 
mankind,  which  did  so  much  for  western  Asia  and 
Europe,  and  to  the  comparative  absence  of  which  the 
arrested  civilization  of  China  may  be  largely  due,  was 
far  less  conspicuously  present  in  South  America  than  on 
the  Mediterranean  coasts.  Think  what  Europe  owed 
not  only  to  the  mixture  of  stocks  whence  the  Italo- 
Hellenic  peoples  sprang,  but  also  to  influences  radiating 
out  from  Egypt  and  the  West  Asiatic  nations.  Think 
what  Italy  owed  to  Greece  and  afterwards  to  the 
East  and  of  what  modern  European  nations  owe  to 
the  contact  of  racial  types  in  literature,  art,  and  ideas, 
such  as  the  Celtic,  the  Iberian,  the  Teutonic,  and  the 
Slavonic.  How  different  was  the  lot  of  the  Peruvians, 
shut  in  between  an  impassable  ocean  on  the  west,  a 
desert  on  the  south,  and  the  savage  tribes  of  a forest 
wilderness  on  the  east ! No  ideas  came  to  them  from 
without,  nor  from  any  of  the  inventions  which  Old 
World  peoples  had  been  making  could  they  profit. 
They  were  out  of  contact  even  with  the  most  ad- 
vanced of  the  other  American  peoples,  such  as  those 
of  Bogotd  and  Yucatan,  for  there  was  a vast  space 
between,  many  shadowy  mountains  and  a resounding 
sea. 

As  after  these  ruins  I saw  no  others  in  South  Amer- 
ica, for  neither  southern  Bolivia  nor  Chile  nor  Argen- 


152 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tina,  nor  Uruguay  has  any  to  shew,  this  seems  the 
fittest  place  for  such  few  thoughts  on  the  ancient  civili- 
zation of  South  America  as  are  suggested  to  the  trav- 
eller’s mind  by  the  remains  of  it  which  he  sees  and  by 
what  he  reads  in  the  books  of  historians  and  archaeolo- 
gists. A large  part  of  the  interest  which  Peru  and 
Bolivia  have  for  the  modern  world  is  the  interest  which 
this  ancient  civilization  awakens.  It  is  a unique  chap- 
ter in  the  history  of  mankind. 

The  most  distinct  and  constantly  recurring  impres- 
sions made  by  the  remains  is  this:  that  the  time  when 
man  began  to  rise  out  of  mere  savagery  must,  in  these 
countries,  be  carried  very  far  into  the  past.  Our  data 
for  any  estimate  either  of  the  duration  of  the  process  by 
which  he  attained  a sort  of  civilization  or  of  the  several 
steps  in  it,  are  extremely  scanty.  In  the  Old  World  the 
early  use  of  writing  by  a few  of  its  peoples  enables  us 
to  go  a long  way  back.  The  records  which  Egypt  and 
Babylon  and  China  have  been  made  to  yield  are  of  some 
service  for  perhaps  three  or  even  four  thousand  years  — 
some  would  say  more  — before  the  Christian  era,  and 
from  those  of  Egypt  and  Babylon  we  get  at  least 
glimpses  of  the  races  that  lived  in  Asia  Minor  and  along 
the  Mediterranean  coast.  But  none  of  the  American 
peoples  advanced  as  far  as  the  invention  of  even  the 
rudest  form  of  writing,  though  in  Mexico  and  Yucatan 
pictures  were  to  some  slight  extent  used  to  preserve 
the  memory  of  events.  Here,  in  South  America,  where 
neither  writing  nor  pictures  aid  us,  our  only  data  for 
what  may  be  called  prehistoric  history,  are  first,  the  re- 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  153 


mains  of  buildings,  whether  fortresses  or  palaces  or 
temples,  and,  secondly,  works  of  art,  such  as  carvings, 
ornaments,  or  religious  objects,  utensils  of  wood  or  earth- 
enware and  paintings  on  them,  weapons  of  war,  woollen 
or  cotton  fabrics,  such  as  ponchos  or  mummy-cloths. 
All  such  relics  are  more  abundant  in  Peru  than  any- 
where else  in  the  Western  world,  except  that  in  Yucatan 
and  some  parts  of  Central  America  the  ruined  temples 
have  been  preserved  better  than  here.  The  Peruvian 
relics  are  found  not  only  in  the  Andean  plateau,  but 
also  in  those  parts  near  the  coast  of  northern  Peru 
where  cultivation  was  rendered  possible  by  rivers. 
There,  at  the  ruins  of  the  Chimu  city,  near  Truxillo,  and 
farther  south  at  Pachacamac,  near  Lima,  a great  deal 
has  been  obtained  by  excavation  in  ancient  cemeteries 
and  temples ; and  much  more  would  have  been  obtained 
but  for  the  damage  wrought  by  generations  of  treasure 
seekers  who  melted  down  all  the  gold  they  found  and 
destroyed  nearly  everything  else. 

The  objects  found  on  the  coast  differ  in  style  from 
those  found  on  the  high  Andean  regions,  and  among 
these  latter  there  are  also  marked  differences  between 
things  found  at  Cuzco,  and  generally  in  northern  Peru, 
and  things  found  in  the  tombs  and  graves  in  the  Titi- 
caca regions.  All,  however,  have  a certain  family  re- 
semblance and  form  a distinct  archseological  group 
somewhat  nearer  to  Mexican  and  Central  American 
art  than  to  anything  in  the  Old  World.  Specimens 
of  all  can  be  just  as  well  studied  in  the  museums  of 
Europe  and  North  America  as  here  on  the  spot,  where 


154 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  collections  are  neither  numerous  nor  well  arranged 
There  is,  perhaps,  more  fertility  of  invention,  more  free- 
dom of  treatment  and  more  humour  in  the  objects  found 
on  the  coast  at  Chimu  and  Pachacamac  than  in  any 
others ; but  the  most  impressive  of  all  are  the  sculptures 
of  Tiahuanaco.  ✓ 

Considerable  skill  had  been  attained  in  weaving. 
Handsome  woollen  ponchos,  apparently  designed  for 
use  as  religious  vestments,  have  been  found,  the  colour 
patterns  harmonious  and  the  wool  exquisitely  fine.  The 
Chimu  tapestries  and  embroideries  shew  taste  as  well  as 
technical  skill.  Copper,  the  metal  chiefly  used  in  Peru, 
was  mined  and  smelted  in  large  quantities;  and  the 
reduction  of  silver  ores  was  also  understood,  yet  the 
age  of  stone  implements  was  not  past,  either  for  peace- 
ful or  for  warlike  purposes.  As  no  cementing  material 
had  been  discovered,  walls  were  rendered  exceptionally 
strong  either  by  carefully  fitting  their  stones  into  one 
another  or  fly  clamping  them  together  by  metal.  Of 
this  latter  method  there  are  examples  at  Tiahuanaco. 

Taking  Peruvian  art  as  a whole,  as  it  appears  in 
pottery  and  pictures  and  carvings,  it  is  inferior  in  grace 
of  form  and  refinement  of  execution  both  to  Egyptian 
and  to  early  Greek  work,  such  as  that  of  the  Mycenaean 
period.  Neither  is  there  anything  that  shews  such  a 
power  of  drawing  the  human  figure  and  of  designing 
ornament  as  the  ruined  temples  of  Yucatan  display. 

The  most  signal  excellence  the  Peruvians  attained 
seems  to  have  been  in  building.  The  absence  of  wood 
turned  their  efforts  towards  stone,  and  gave  birth  to 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  155 


works  which  deserve  to  be  compared  with  those  of  Egypt, 
and  far  surpass  ki  solidity  any  to  be  found  in  North 
America.  Of  the  temples,  too  little  remains  to  enable 
a judgment  to  be  formed,  either  of  their  general  de- 
sign or  of  their  adornment.  But  the  stonework  is 
wonderful,  indicating  not  only  a high  degree  of  manual 
expertness,  but  the  maintenance  of  a severe  standard 
of  efficiency  through  every  part,  while  the  skill  shewn 
in  the  planning  of  fortifications  so  as  to  strengthen 
every  defensive  line  and  turn  to  account  the  natural 
features  of  the  ground  would  have  done  credit  to  the 
military  engineering  of  fifteenth-century  Europeans. 

But  the  race  was  also  in  some  ways  strangely  inept. 
Both  the  Quichua  tribes  and  the  subjects  of  the  Chimu 
sovereign  on  the  Pacific  coast  seem  to  have  shewn  no 
higher  invention  than  the  Aymaras,  who  launched  their 
rush  balsas  on  Lake  Titicaca,  for  the  Spaniards  found 
them  using  nothing  but  small  canoes  on  the  rivers 
and  clumsy  rafts  for  creeping  along  the  shore  with  the 
help  of  a rude  sail,  though  the  Caribs  of  Venezuela, 
otherwise  far  less  advanced,  carried  on  a brisk  trade  in 
large  sea-going  canoes  all  the  wray  along  the  line  of  the 
Antilles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Orinoco  to  the  peninsula 
of  Yucatan. 

The  few  songs  that  have  been  preserved  do  not  com- 
memorate events  or  achievements  like  the  ballads 
of  Europe,  but  are  mostly  simple  ditties,  connected  with 
nature  and  agriculture.  There  were,  however,  dramas 
which  used  to  be  acted,  and  among  them  one  consider- 
able work  which,  long  preserved  by  oral  recitations,  was 


156 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


written  down  in  the  seventeenth  century  by  Dr.  Valdez, 
a Spaniard,  the  priest  of  Sicuani,  and  generally  held 
to  be  in  the  main  of  native  authorship,  though  per- 
haps touched  up  by  Spanish  taste.  This  is  the  so- 
called  drama  of  Ollantay.  It  has  a fresh  simplicity  and 
a sort  of  romantic  flavour  which  suggest  that  there  was 
something  more  than  prosaic  industry  in  this  people. 

In  the  absence  of  literature,  one  seeks  in  the  mythol- 
ogy of  a race  a test  of  its  imaginative  quality ; and  in  its 
religion,  an  indication  of  its  power  of  abstract  thinking. 
In  both  respects,  the  Peruvians  seem  to  have  stood  as 
much  below  the  primitive  Celts  and  Teutons,  as  they 
stood  above  the  negro  races,  with  their  naive  animism 
and  childish  though  often  humorous  fables.  Whether 
the  Spanish  ecclesiastics  were  right  in  finding  in  the 
worship  of  the  earth  god  Pachacamac  a belief  in  a su- 
preme deity,  creator  of  the  world,  may  be  doubted. 
But  that  the  worship  of  Sun,  Moon,  and  Stars  should 
have  coexisted  with  ancestor  worship,  and  with  a sort 
of  fetichism  which  revered  and  feared  spirits  in  all 
objects,  need  excite  no  surprise.  Such  a mixture,  or 
rather  such  a coexistence  without  real  intermixture, 
of  different  strata  of  religious  ideas,  finds  plenty  of 
analogies  in  the  ancient  Helleno-Italic  world  as  it  does 
to-day  in  China  and  other  parts  of  the  East.  There  was 
a worship  of  the  ghosts  of  the  progenitors  of  the  fam- 
ily and  the  tribe,  a worship  of  various  more  or  less 
remarkable  natural  objects,  or  rather  of  the  spirits  that 
dwelt  in  them,  a worship  of  animals  such  as  the  strongest 
beast  and  largest  bird  of  prey,  the  puma  and  the  con- 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  157 


dor,  and  of  the  supremely  useful  llama  (a  devotion  which 
was  compatible  with  the  sacrificing  of  the  animal),  a 
worship  of  plants,  and  especially  of  the  maize  and  of 
the  power  which  bade  it  grow,  the  Maize  Mother. 
Above  all  these  forms,  congenial  to  the  humbler  classes, 
rose  the  worship  of  the  Sun,  Moon,  and  Stars  (especially 
the  Pleiades),  representing  a higher  range  of  ideas,  yet 
connected  with  the  more  primitive  nature  superstitions 
by  the  sense  that  the  Sun  evoked  life  from  the  earth 
and  by  the  finding,  in  the  constellations,  the  shapes  of 
the  animals  that  were  sacred  on  the  earth.  Nor  were 
these  the  only  points  in  which  we  discover  resem- 
blances to  Old  World  religions.  Peru  rivalled  Egypt 
in  the  care  taken  to  preserve  the  bodies  of  the  dead  as 
mummies,1  and  these,  so  skilfully  dried  as  not  to  offend 
the  senses,  were  sometimes  placed  in  their  dwellings.  The 
Quichuas  practised  divination  by  the  flight  of  birds  (like 
the  Dyaks  of  Borneo),  and  by  the  inspection  of  the  en- 
trails of  victims,  as  the  Romans  did  down  to  the  end  of 
the  Republic.  They  had  oracles  delivered  from  rocks  or 
rivers,  like  the  Greeks,  and  the  Huillca  through  whom 
the  spirit  spoke  could,  like  the  Delphic  Pythia,  some- 
times be  guided  towards  the  answer  desired.  Men, 
and  especially  children,  were  sacrificed  (though  to  a 
far  smaller  extent  than  in  Mexico  or  among  the  Phoeni- 
cians). If  cannibalism  existed  on  the  Plateau,  it  was 
rare,  though  it  still  remains  among  some  of  the  wildest 
of  the  Amazonian  tribes. 

1 The  primitive  inhabitants  of  the  Canary  Isles,  who  were  ap- 
parently of  Berber  stock,  also  preserved  their  dead  as  mummies. 


158 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


That  there  is  nothing  of  which  men  are  so  tenacious 
as  their  superstitions  may  perhaps  be  ascribed  to  the 
fact  that  life  is  ruled  more  by  emotion  and  habit  than 
by  reason.  The  Peruvians  made  no  fight  for  their 
religion,  which,  to  be  sure,  was  not  necessarily  incon- 
sistent with  such  Christian  rites  as  the  friars  demanded. 
They  submitted  to  baptism  with  that  singular  passivity 
which  marks  nearly  all  the  South  American  races. 
They  threw  into  the  lakes  or  hid  in  the  ground  all  the 
temple  gold  that  could  be  got  away  before  the  Spanish 
plunderers  fell  upon  them,  but  made  little  attempt  to 
defend  their  sacred  places  or  images.  Nevertheless 
under  a nominal,  not  to  say  a debased,  Christianity, 
they  long  continued  to  practise  the  ancient  rites,  and 
to  this  day  wizardry  and  the  devotion  to  the  local 
huacas  (sacred  places  or  objects)  are  strong  among 
the  people.  These  primeval  superstitions,  which  ex- 
isted long  before  the  Inca  Sun  worship  had  been 
established,  have  long  survived  it.  If  all  the  people  who 
now  speak  Spanish  were  to  depart  from  Peru  and  Bo- 
livia, and  these  regions  were  to  be  cut  off  from  the  world 
and  left  to  themselves,  pagan  worship,  mixed  with  some 
few  Christian  words  and  usages,  might  probably  again 
become,  within  some  twenty  generations,  the  religion  of 
the  Andean  countries,  just  as  tribes  in  the  Caucasus  which 
were  converted  to  Christianity  in  the  days  when  the 
Roman  Empire  reached  as  far  east  as  Tiflis  were  found 
to  have  retained  of  it,  after  twelve  centuries,  nothing  but 
the  practice  of  fasting  in  Lent  and  the  use  of  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  Nature  worship  still  holds  its  ground,  though 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  159 


no  doubt  in  a highly  extenuated  form,  in  every  country 
of  Europe.1  Habit  and  emotion  are  the  most  universal 
and  the  deepest-down* things  in  human  nature,  present 
where  reason  is  feeble,  and  gripping  the  soul  tighter 
than  do  any  intellectual  convictions.  Religious  senti- 
ment may  hold  men  to  old  beliefs  and  practices  long  after 
the  origin  and  grounds  of  the  belief  have  been  forgotten. 

Comparing  the  Indians  of  the  Andes  with  those  of  the 
plateau  of  Anahuac,  and  especially  with  the  Aztecs, 
the  former  appear  a less  vigorous  and  forceful  people, 
and  distinctly  inferior  as  fighting  men.  The  North 
Americans  generally,  including  not  only  the  Mexicans, 
but  such  tribes  as  the  Sioux,  the  Comanches,  and  the 
Iroquois,  loved  war,  and  were  as  brave  and  fierce  in  it 
as  any  race  the  world  has  seen.  The  South  Americans, 
except  of  course  the  Araucanians  of  Chile,  the  Charruas 
of  Uruguay,  and  perhaps  also  the  Caras  of  Quito,  were 
altogether  softer.  They  still  make  sturdy  soldiers  when 
well  led,  and  do  not  fear  death.  But  they  shewed  little 
of  the  spirit  and  tenacity  of  the  Red  Men  of  the  North. 
Even  allowing  for  the  terror  and  amazement  inspired  by 
the  horses,  the  firearms,  the  armour,  and  the  superior 
physical  strength  of  the  Spanish  invaders,  who  were 
picked  men,  some  of  them  veterans  from  Italian  wars, 


1 Abundant  evidence  on  this  subject  may  be  found  in  Mr. 
J.  G.  Frazer’s  Golden  Bough.  In  Cornwall  and  Ireland  sacred  wells 
still  receive  offerings.  I once  met  a French  peasant  who  believed 
in  were-wolves  and  knew  one  ; and  I remember  as  a boy  to  have 
been  warned  by  the  peasants  in  the  Glens  of  Antrim  to  beware  of  the 
water  spirit  who  (under  the  form  of  a bull)  infested  the  river  in 
which  I was  fishing. 


160 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  resistance  of  the  Peruvians  was  strangely  feeble. 
They  were  also  mentally  inferior.  The  Spaniards 
thought  the  Mexicans  far  more  intelligent.  Neither  race 
had  made  the  great  discovery  of  alphabetic  writing,  but 
those  of  Anahuac  had  come  much  nearer  to  it  with  their 
quasi-hieroglyphic  pictures  than  had  the  Peruvian^  with 
their  Quipus,  knotted  strings  of  various  colours.  On 
the  other  hand  the  rule  of  the  Incas  and  their  more 
pacific  type  of  civilization  represent  a more  fully  de- 
veloped and  better  settled  system  of  administration  than 
the  military  organization  of  those  allied  pueblos  which 
were  led  by  the  Aztecs  of  Tenochtitlan  (Mexico  City). 
These  latter  did  no  more  than  exact  tribute  and  re- 
quire contingents  in  war  from  the  tribes  who  dwelt 
round  them  on  the  Mexican  plateau  and  between  the 
plateau  and  the  Gulf,  while  the  Incas  not  only  ex- 
ercised undisputed  suzerainty  for  a thousand  miles 
to  the  south  of  Cuzco  and  nearly  another  thousand 
to  the  north,  but  had  devised,  in  their  own  domain  of 
central  Peru,  a scheme  of  government  whose  elabo- 
ration witnesses  to  the  political  capacity  of  the  rulers. 
Even  if  we  discount  a good  deal  of  the  description  given 
by  the  early  writers  of  the  “ State  Socialism  ” established 
by  the  Incas,  it  seems  probable  that  more  was  done  in 
the  way  of  regulating  the  productive  activities  of  the 
subjects  than  in  any  other  primitive  people,  either  of 
the  ancient  or  of  the  modern  world.  Public  officials, 
it  is  said,  regulated  the  distribution  and  cultivation  of 
the  land,  its  produce  being  allotted,  partly  to  the  Inca, 
partly  to  the  service  of  the  Sun,  his  temples  and  minis- 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  161 


ters,  partly  to  the  cultivator  or  the  clan  to  which  he 
belonged.  Thus  State  Socialism  was  strengthened  by 
its  association  with  a State  Church,  and  as  everybody 
was  free  to  worship  his  local  huacas  as  well  as  the  Sun 
there  was  nothing  to  fear  from  heresy  or  non-conformity. 
The  Incas  maintained  roads,  some  of  which  are  said  to 
have  been  paved,1  and  tambos  or  rest-houses  along 
the  roads,  together  with  a service  of  swift  messengers 
whose  feats  of  running  excited  the  admiration  of  the 
Spaniards.  They  made  plans  in  relief  of  their  cities, 
and  some  accounts  declare  that  they  adorned  their 
walls  with  pictures  of  former  sovereigns.  By  the  gen- 
eral testimony  of  the  early  Spanish  writers,  the  coun- 
try was  peaceful  and  orderly.  Other  vices,  including 
that  of  drunkenness,  are  charged  upon  them,  but  theft 
and  violence  were  extremely  rare.  Indeed,  the  habit 
of  obedience  was  cultivated  only  too  successfully,  for  it 
made  them  yield,  after  a few  scattered  outbursts  of 
resistance,  to  a handful  of  invaders. 

The  political  astuteness  of  the  Incas,  visible  in  their 
practice  of  moving  conquered  tribes,  as  did  the  Assyrian 
kings,  to  new  abodes  and  replacing  these  by  colonists 
of  more  assured  loyalty,  was  perhaps  most  conspicuous 
in  the  success  that  attended  their  scheme  of  basing 
imperial  power  upon  national  Sun  worship,  making  the 
sovereign  play  on  earth  the  part  which  the  great 
luminary  held  in  the  sky,  and  surrounding  his  commands 

1 It  is,  however,  probable  that  the  early  Spanish  accounts  of  the 
excellence  of  the  roads  were  exaggerated,  for  few  traces  of  them 
can  be  discerned  to-day. 


M 


162 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  his  person  with  an  almost  equal  sanctity.  The 
Inca  was  more  to  his  subjects  than  any  European  or  Asi- 
atic  monarch  has  ever  been  to  his,  more  than  was  the 
Mikado  in  Japan  or  the  Czar  to  the  peasantry  of  Russia 
a century  ago. 

When  the  Spanish  invasion  broke  like  a tojnado 
upon  Peru,  it  was  natural  that  the  Inca  throne  should 
be  uprooted  and  the  ancient  Sun  worship  with  it.  But 
the  Conquerors  also  therewith  destroyed,  in  the  thought- 
less insolence  of  force  and  greed,  the  whole  system  of 
society  and  government.  Some  of  them,  writing  twenty 
or  thirty  years  later,  expressed  their  regret.1  Wretch- 
edness had  replaced  prosperity;  such  virtues  as  the 
people  had  possessed  were  disappearing,  their  spirit 
was  irretrievably  broken.  The  serfdom  to  which  the 
peasantry  were  by  the  Conquest  subjected  was  not 
paternal,  as  that  of  the  Incas  had  been,  and  was  harsher, 
because  the  new  master  was  a stranger  without  sym- 
pathy or  compassion.  There  was  no  one  to  befriend 
the  Indian,  save  now  and  then  a compassionate  church- 
man ; and  even  if  he  could  get  the  ear  of  the  Viceroy  or 
bring  his  appeal  to  the  Council  of  the  Indies  in  Spain, 
the  oppressor  on  the  spot  was  always  able  to  frustrate 
such  benevolent  efforts.  How  far  the  people  died  out 
under  these  new  conditions  is  matter  of  controversy, 
but  it  seems  clear  that  the  coast  valleys  (already 
declining  as  the  result  of  frequent  wars)  were  soon 
almost  depopulated;  and  in  place  of  the  eight  millions 
whom  the  Viceroy  Toledo’s  enumeration  reported  in 

1 See  note  III  at  end  of  book. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  163 


1575, 1 there  were  in  1794  only  608,000  Indians  and 
244,000  mestizos  within  the  seven  Intendancies  of  Peru 
(excluding  what  is  now  Bolivia). 

It  is  the  extraordinary  interest  of  the  subject,  — a re- 
ligion and  a polity  resembling  in  so  many  points  those 
of  Old  World  countries,  yet  itself  altogether  indepen- 
dently developed — that  has  drawn  me  into  this  digres- 
sion, for  all  that  I had  intended  was  to  describe  the 
impression  which  the  existing  ruins  make,  and  what  it 
is  that  they  seem  to  tell  us  about  the  capacities  of  the 
race  that  has  left  them  as  its  monument.  They  are  far 
scantier  than  are  the  remains  of  the  Egyptian  and 
Assyrian  civilizations,  and  they  are  as  inferior  in  ma- 
terial grandeur  and  artistic  quality  to  those  remains  as 
the  race  was  intellectually  inferior  not  only  to  the 
Greeks,  but  also  to  our  own  early  Celtic  and  Teutonic 
ancestors  of  the  first  five  Christian  centuries  who 
produced  few  buildings  and  had  not  advanced  in  set- 
tled order  and  in  wealth  so  far  as  the  subjects  of  the 
Incas.  Nevertheless,  the  Peruvian  remains  do  bear 
witness  to  two  elements  of  strength  in  the  American 
race.  One  of  these  is  a capacity  for  the  concentration 
of  effort  upon  any  aim  proposed  and  for  a scrupu- 
lously exact  and  careful  execution  of  any  work  un- 
dertaken. The  other  is  a certain  largeness  and  bold- 
ness of  conception,  finding  expression  not  only  in  the 


1 It  is  not  clear  how  much  territory  this  enumeration  covered  and 
it  was  probably  only  a rough  estimate  ; still,  the  fact  that  the  popu- 
lation was  far  larger  in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  than  it  was  in 
the  eighteenth  century  seems  beyond  doubt. 


164 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


plan  of  great  buildings,  but  also  in  an  administrative 
system  which  secured  obedience  over  a vast  area,  which 
diffused  its  language  over  many  diverse  tribes,  and  im- 
pressed upon  them  one  worship  and  (to  some  extent  at 
least)  one  type  of  society.  That  a people  who  wanted  so 
many  advantages  possessed  by  the  peoples  of  xthe  Old 
World  should  have  effected  these  things  shews  the  high 
natural  quality  inherent  in  some  at  least  of  the  aborigi- 
nal races  of  the  Western  Hemisphere. 

Was  this  semicivilization  of  Peru  — and  one  may 
ask  the  same  question  regarding  that  of  Mexico  — still 
advancing  when  it  was  suddenly  and  irretrievably  swept 
away  by  the  Spanish  Conquest  ? Did  it  possess  such 
further  possibilities  of  development  as  might  have 
enabled  it,  had  it  been  spared,  to  have  made  some  sub- 
stantial contribution,  whether  in  art,  or  in  industry,  or  in 
the  way  of  intellectual  creation,  to  the  general  progress 
of  mankind  ? Or  had  it  already  reached  the  full  meas- 
ure of  its  stature,  as  the  civilization  of  Egypt  seems 
to  have  done  some  time  before  the  Persians  conquered 
that  country,  or  as  that  of  China  did  many  centuries 
ago?  This  is  a question  which  the  knowledge  so  far 
attained  regarding  the  pre-Conquest  ages  of  Peru  does 
not  enable  us  to  answer.1  Could  the  voyage  of  Colum- 
bus have  been  postponed  for  four  or  five  hundred  years, 
Peruvians  and  Mexicans  might  have  risen  nearer  to  an 

1 A vast  deal  still  remains  to  be  done  both  in  Mexico  and  Peru, 
perhaps  even  more  in  the  latter  than  in  the  former,  to  examine 
thoroughly  both  the  accounts  given  by  the  early  Spanish  writers  and 
the  existing  remains  of  buildings  and  graves  and  the  objects  found 
in  or  near  them,  so  as  to  lay  a foundation  for  some  systematic  ac- 
count of  the  ancient  native  civilizations. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  CENTRAL  ANDES  165 


equality  of  intelligence  with  the  European  peoples,  how- 
ever inferior  they  had  remained  for  the  purposes  of  war. 
But  America  once  discovered,  the  invasion  of  Mexico 
and  Peru  was  certain  to  follow ; and  so  soon  as  the  Old- 
World  races  with  their  enormous  superiority  poured  in 
among  those  of  the  New  World,  the  weaker  civiliza- 
tion could  not  but  be  submerged,  submerged  so  ut- 
terly that  little  or  nothing  of  it  remained  to  be  taken 
up  into  and  incorporated  with  that  of  the  invaders. 

It  is  this  complete  submersion  that  strikes  one  so 
forcibly  in  Peru  and  Mexico ; perhaps  even  more 
forcibly  in  the  former  than  in  the  latter.  The  aborigines 
went  under  at  once.  In  Peru  and  Bolivia  they  consti- 
tute the  majority  of  the  population.  But  to  the  moral, 
intellectual,  and  political  life  of  Peru  and  Bolivia  they 
have  made  no  contribution.  Even  to  its  art  and  its  in- 
dustries they  supplied  nothing  except  painstaking  artifi- 
cers, retaining  the  old  talent  for  stonework,  wThich  they 
did  at  the  bidding  of  Spanish  masters.  Negatively  and 
harmfully,  they  have  affected  politics  by  preventing  the 
growth  of  a white  agricultural  class  and  by  furnishing 
recruits  to  the  armies  raised  by  military  adventurers. 
The  break  between  the  old  Peru  of  the  Incas  and  the 
newer  Peru  of  colonial  times  was  as  complete  as  it  was 
sudden.  The  earlier  has  passed  on  nothing  to  the  later, 
because  the  spirit  of  the  race  was  too  hopelessly  broken 
to  enable  it  to  give  anything.  There  remains  only  the 
submissiveness  of  a downtrodden  peasantry  and  its 
pathetic  fidelity  to  its  primitive  superstitions.  Some 
old  evils  passed  away,  some  new  evils  appeared.  Human 
sacrifices  ended,  and  the  burning  of  heretics  began. 


CHAPTER  V 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT 

Bolivia  was  for  two  centuries  after  the  Spanish  Con- 
quest a part  of  Peru  and  has  neither  natural  bounda- 
ries nor  any  distinctive  physical  character  to  mark  it 
off  from  its  neighbours,  Peru  on  the  northwest  and 
Argentina  on  the  southeast.  It  is  an  artificial  creation, 
whose  separate  national  existence  is  due  to  two  events. 
After  the  Jesuits  had,  by  the  king  of  Spain’s  decree  in 
1769,  been  forced  out  of  Paraguay,  which  they  had  ruled 
with  considerable  success  for  many  years,  the  Spanish 
government  found  that  it  was  more  and  more  difficult 
to  administer  from  Lima  their  vast  southeastern  domin- 
ions lying  to  the  east  of  the  Andes,  since  these  were 
then  becoming  more  and  more  exposed  to  contact  with 
European  nations,  reaching  them  across  the  Atlantic. 
Accordingly,  they  created,  in  1776,  the  viceroyalty  of 
Buenos  Aires  and  assigned  to  it  all  the  River  Plate 
countries,  while  for  the  southeastern  parts  of  what  had 
hitherto  been  upper  Peru  they  set  up  a separate  admin- 
istrative authority  with  the  seat  of  its  audiencia  at  Chu- 
quisaca.  Then  came  the  War  of  Independence.  When 
that  struggle  ended  with  the  decisive  battle  of  Ayacucho, 
in  1824,  and  the  surrender  of  Lima  and  Callao,  the 
triumphant  revolutionary  leaders  determined  to  main- 
tain the  political  separation  from  Peru  of  this  south- 

166 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  167 


ern  region,  which  had  been  under  the  audiencia  of 
Chuquisaca,  and  to  constitute  a distinct  republic  lying 
between  Peru  and  Argentina.  To  this  new  creation  the 
name  of  Bolivia  was  given  in  honour  of  Simon  Bolivar, 
the  “Liberator,”  himself  a Venezuelan.  Independent 
it  has  since  then  remained,  having,  however,  lost  in  an 
unfortunate  war  with  Chile  a large  slice  of  territory  ad- 
joining the  Pacific.  It  is  now,  except  Paraguay,  the 
only  entirely  inland  state  in  South  America.  And  just 
as  on  no  side  has  it  anything  that  can  be  called  a natu- 
ral frontier,  neither  have  its  inhabitants  any  distinctive 
quality  or  character  to  distinguish  them  sharply  from 
other  peoples.  They  differ  but  little  from  the  Andean 
Peruvians,  being  of  similarly  mixed  Spanish  and  Indian 
blood  and  living  under  similar  physical  conditions. 

Bolivia  includes  several  regions  quite  different  in 
their  character.  Nearly  all  the  western  part  is  a desert, 
with  a few  mining  towns  scattered  here  and  there,  a 
desert  enclosed  by  the  two  great  almost  parallel  Cordil- 
leras of  the  Andes.  The  southeastern  part  is  a plateau, 
or  rather  succession  of  plateaux,  lying  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  Eastern  Cordillera,  and  gradually  sinking 
into  those  vast  levels  on  the  borders  of  Argentina,  Para- 
guay, and  Brazil,  from  which  rivers  flow  northward  into 
the  Amazon  and  southward  to  form  the  Parana  and  Rio 
de  la  Plata.  Much  of  this  region  is  too  dry  or  too  rugged 
for  cultivation  or  even  for  ranching.  Yet  much  is  also 
valuable  for  one  or  other  purpose,  and  capable  of  sup- 
porting an  agricultural  population  as  well  as  that  which 
lives  off  the  mines.  The  third  or  northeastern  region 


168 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


is  a part  of  the  great  Amazonian  low  forest-covered 
country,  — the  so-called  Selvas  (woodlands),  — which 
stretches  out  to  the  east  from  the  declivities  of  the 
Eastern  Cordillera,  and  is  still,  save  for  a few  white 
settlements,  inhabited  only  by  wild  Indians.  Thus  in 
the  enormous  total  area  of  Bolivia,  605,000  square  miles, 
there  are  only  2,000,000  people,  and  the  large  majority 
of  these  are  Indians,  uncivilized  in  the  forests,  semicivil- 
ized  in  the  other  regions.  The  white  population,  esti- 
mated at  200,000,  most  of  whom,  however,  have  some 
Indian  blood,  is  virtually  confined  to  a few  towns,  only 
one  of  which,  La  Paz,  has  more  than  25,000  people. 
Santa  Cruz  (de  la  Sierra),  far  out  in  the  eastern  lowlands, 
and  Chuquisaca,  now  called  Sucre,  Cochabamba, 
and  Potosi,  with  its  wonderful  mountain  of  silver,  have 
some  families  of  Spanish  blood.  Oruro  and  Uyuni  in 
the  desert  are  mining  towns  with  the  mixed  population 
that  gathers  in  such  places.  La  Paz,  the  largest  city, 
and  virtually,  though  not  officially,  the  capital,  has 
50,000  inhabitants,  the  bulk  of  whom  are  Indians. 
These  six  towns  are  far  apart,  there  are  few  inhabitants 
between  them,  and  these  are  nearly  all  Indians.  Till 
the  railroad  from  Uyuni  by  Oruro  to  La  Paz  was  made, 
communication  was  very  slow  and  difficult.  Anyone 
can  see  what  obstacles  to  economic  and  political  prog- 
ress such  conditions  create. 

The  traveller  who  approaches  La  Paz  from  Lake 
Titicaca  — and  this  has  been  the  usual  route  from  the 
coast  — rises  slowly  through  the  bare  hills  amidst  which 
Tiahuanaco  stands  till  he  emerges  on  an  immense  level, 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  169 


stretching  south  to  a distant  horizon,  and  bounded  on 
the  west  by  bare  rolling  mountains  and  on  the  east  by 
the  still  loftier  Eastern  Cordillera.  Here  in  the  bleak- 
est spot  imaginable,  about  13,000  feet  above  sea-level, 
the  railway  from  Guaqui,  the  port  on  Titicaca,  meets 
the  railway  from  Antofagasta,  the  Chilean  port  on  the 
Pacific,  four  hundred  miles  away  to  the  south,  and 
this  is  the  point  to  which  a third  railway  is  now  con- 
verging, that  which  is  being  built  to  connect  La  Paz 
with  Arica  on  the  Pacific,  one  hundred  miles  to  the  west. 
From  this  point,  called  Viacha,  the  route  turns  eastward 
towards  the  Cordillera,  the  line  climbing  slowly  in  wide 
sweeps  over  the  dusty  and  shrubless  plateau  on  whose 
thin  grass  sheep  are  browsing.  There  is  not  a house 
visible  and  the  smooth  slope  seems  to  run  right  up 
against  the  mountain  wall  beyond.  Where  can  La  Paz 
be?  asks  the  traveller.  Presently,  however,  he  perceives 
strings  of  llamas  and  donkeys  and  wayfarers  on  foot 
moving  along  the  slope  towards  a point  where  they  all 
suddenly  vanish  and  are  no  more  seen.  Then  a spot  is 
reached  where  the  railway  itself  seems  to  end  between  a 
few  sheds.  He  gets  out  and  walks  a few  yards  to  the  east 
and  then  suddenly  pulls  up  with  a start  on  the  edge  of  a 
yawning  abyss.  Right  beneath  him,  fifteen  hundred  feet 
below,  a grey,  red-roofed  city  fills  the  bottom  of  a gorge 
and  climbs  up  its  sides  on  both  banks  of  the  torrent  that 
foams  through  it.  Every  street  and  square,  every  yard 
and  garden,  is  laid  out  under  the  eye  as  if  on  a map,  and 
one  almost  seems  to  hear  the  rattle  of  vehicles  over  stony 
pavements  coming  faintly  up  through  the  thin  air. 


170 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


I had  often  heard  La  Paz  described  as  lying  in  a 
deep  rift  of  volcanic  origin,  due  to  a sudden  subsidence 
in  the  course  of  an  eruption,  or  perhaps  to  an  earth- 
quake. Such  a hypothesis  seemed  natural  in  a land 
of  earthquakes  and  volcanoes.  But  there  is  no  trace 
here  of  any  volcanic  action,  whether  eruption  or  dis- 
ruption. This  barranca  — it  is  the  Spanish  name  for 
such  a hollow  — has  evidently  been  scooped  out  by  the 
action  of  water.  The  sloping  plateau  up  which  the 
railway  rises  from  Viacha  is  an  immensely  thick  alluvial 
or  lacustrine  deposit  of  earth  and  gravel,  doubtless 
formed  in  the  days  when  the  whole  region  between 
the  Eastern  and  Western  Cordilleras  formed  part  of 
a far  larger  Lake  Titicaca.  The  torrent  which  comes 
down  from  the  snows  of  the  Cordillera  Real  to  the  north 
has  cut  its  way  down  through  this  deposit  and  thus 
formed  the  “ gulch,”  to  use  the  word  which,  in  western 
North  America,  is  appropriated  to  gorges  hollowed  out 
by  streams.  The  sides  of  the  hollow  are  all  of  earth, 
extremely  hard,  and  in  many  places  almost  precipitous, 
but  there  is  no  rock,  certainly  no  igneous  rock,  visible 
anywhere. 

How  did  so  strange  a site  come  to  be  chosen  ? Appar- 
ently in  the  first  instance  because  gold  had  been  found 
in  the  earth  along  the  river,  and  the  Spaniards  set 
the  Indians  to  wash  it  out  for  them.  This  industry  has 
long  been  abandoned;  but  the  spot,  first  settled  in  or 
about  1548,  when  the  civil  wars  among  the  Conquista- 
dores  were  ended  by  capture  and  execution  of  Gonzalo 
Pizarro,  and  called  Our  Lady  of  Peace,  was  recom- 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  171 


mended  for  continued  occupation  by  its  having  a copi- 
ous and  perennial  stream,  by  its  sheltered  position,  and 
by  its  standing  at  the  opening  of  a deep  ravine  through 
which  a track  leads  down  along  the  banks  of  the 
river,  into  the  forest  country  on  the  east.  Through 
this  ravine  it  is  supposed  that  Lake  Titicaca  formerly 
sent  its  surplus  waters  to  the  Atlantic.  No  spot  within 
many  a mile  is  so  well  protected  from  the  fierce  winds 
that  sweep  over  the  plateau.  Up  there  nothing  will 
rise  three  feet  from  the  ground.  Down  below  flowers 
are  grown  and  trees  can  be  coaxed  up  to  give  shade 
and  put  forth  branches  in  which  birds  can  sing. 

From  the  edge  of  the  barranca  — it  is  called  the  “Alto” 
— electric  cars  descend  into  the  city  by  a track  which 
doubles  hither  and  thither  in  zigzags  along  the  face 
of  the  almost  precipitous  declivity.  The  line  has  been 
skilfully  laid  out,  and  as  the  cars  are  light  and  fitted 
with  powerful  brakes,  the  descent  is  perfectly  safe,  steep 
as  is  the  grade.  Such  a railway  is,  of  course,  not  capa- 
ble of  carrying  heavy  goods  traffic ; but  there  is  not, 
and  may  not  for  a long  while  be,  any  great  quantity  of 
heavy  traffic  to  carry.  The  new  line,  which  is  to  con- 
nect the  city  with  the  coast  at  Arica,  is  meant  to  have 
its  terminal  station  at  the  southern  end  of  the  barranca, 
where  descent  from  above  is  somewhat  easier. 

La  Paz  has  the  distinction  of  being  the  loftiest  capital 
city  in  the  world,  as  it  stands  12,470  feet  above  sea- 
level,  more  than  2000  feet  higher  than  Quito,  and  5000 
feet  higher  than  Mexico.  Lhasa  in  Tibet  comes  next 
to  it  at  11,830  feet.  The  mean  annual  temperature  is 


172 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


50  degrees  Fahrenheit.  The  keen  air  which  this  ele- 
vation gives  has  a fine,  bracing  quality,  yet  there  are 
disadvantages.  One  is  never  warm  except  when  actu- 
ally in  the  sunlight,  and  there  are  no  fires,  indeed,  hardly 
any  fireplaces,  partly,  no  doubt,  because  there  is  nothing 
to  burn,  the  country  being  treeless  and  coal  far  distant. 
The  inhabitants  get  accustomed  to  these  conditions 
and  shiver  in  their  ponchos,  but  the  traveller  is  rather 
wretched  after  sunset,  and  feels  how  natural  was  Sun 
worship  in  such  a country.  So  thin  is  the  air  that 
people  with  weak  hearts  or  narrow  chests  cannot  live 
here.  An  attack  of  pneumonia  is  rapidly  fatal,  because 
there  is  not  enough  oxygen  to  keep  the  lungs  going  under 
stress,  and  the  only  chance  for  the  patient  is  to  hurry 
him  down  to  the  coast  by  railway.  Pressure  on  the 
breathing  and  palpitation  of  the  heart  are  the  commonest 
symptoms  of  the  soroche,  or  puna,  the  so-called  moun- 
tain sickness  which  prevails  all  over  the  plateau  at 
heights  exceeding  10,000  feet,  many  persons  suffering 
from  it  at  even  lower  levels.  Less  frequent  symptoms 
are  nausea  and  vomiting,  violent  headache,  and  general 
disturbance  of  the  digestive  organs.  Some  constitu- 
tions are,  of  course,  much  more  liable  to  suffer  than  others 
are,  but  all  who  come  from  the  lowlands  experience  a 
difficulty  in  any  violent  physical  exertion,  such  as 
running  uphill  or  lifting  heavy  weights.  We  enquired 
before  leaving  the  coast  whether  any  remedies  or  pre- 
ventives could  be  applied,  and  were  told  that  drugs 
were  of  little  or  no  use,  the  best  prophylactic  being  to 
abstain  from  smoking,  from  drinking,  and  from  eating. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  173 


I observed  only  the  second  of  these  directions,  but  neither 
of  us  suffered  in  any  way,  not  even  at  heights  exceeding 
15,000  feet,  save  that  it  proved  desirable  in  climbing  hills 
to  walk  more  slowly  than  we  were  accustomed  to  do  at 
home,  and  that,  when  lying  down  in  bed  at  night,  we 
found  ourselves  drawing  a few  very  long  and  deep 
breaths  before  sleep  came.  English  and  North  Ameri- 
can acquaintances  in  La  Paz  told  us  that  to  play  single 
sets  in  lawn  tennis  was  too  hard  work,  because  the 
effort  of  getting  quickly  to  different  corners  of  the  court 
tried  the  lungs;  and  we  heard  of  people  who,  having  come 
here  for  business  purposes,  found,  after  a few  months, 
that  it  was  prudent  to  return  to  the  coast  for  an  interval 
of  rest.  The  native  Indians,  being  to  the  manner  born, 
seem  to  suffer  from  the  thinness  of  the  air  no  more  than 
they  do  from  the  cold,  and  in  the  days  of  the  Incas  they 
performed  extraordinary  feats  of  swift  running  for  long 
distances. 

The  causes  which  make  elevation  above  the  sea  affect 
our  organs  more  on  some  mountains  than  on  others  have 
never  been  fully  ascertained.  Sir  M.  Conway  thinks 
that  the  rarity  of  air  is  more  felt  in  dry  regions,  as  here 
in  the  central  Andes  and  in  Colorado,  where  I personally 
remember  to  have  found  it  a greater  hindrance  to  exer- 
tion at  8000  feet  than  on  the  Alps  at  15,000  feet.  Others 
declare  that  it  is  more  severe  in  moist  and  rainy  weather 
than  in  clear  weather.  One  may  venture  to  suggest 
that  it  is  more  felt  on  a plateau  or  wide  mass  of  lofty 
mountains  than  on  a narrow  range  where  there  is  abun- 
dance of  denser  air  just  below,  which  rises  from  the 


174 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


valley.  This  would  explain  why  climbers  suffer  so 
little  from  it  in  the  Alps.  Such  experience  as  I have 
had  on  the  Himalayas  and  in  America  as  well  as  on 
the  North  American  ranges  and  in  Hawaii  favours  this 
view. 

The  lesson  of  slowing  down  one’s  pace  in  walking 
uphill  is  soon  learnt  in  La  Paz,  for,  as  it  stands  on  very 
irregular  ground,  sloping  sharply  on  both  sides  to  the 
stream  which  traverses  it  in  a broad,  stony  channel,  all 
the  streets  are  steep,  except  those  that  run  along  the 
bottom  of  the  valley  parallel  to  the  stream.  All  are 
very  roughly  paved,  so  driving  is  no  great  pleasure  till 
you  get  outside  the  town  upon  one  or  two  well-kept  sub- 
urban avenues.  Still  less  is  riding,  till  one  has  learnt  to 
trust  the  experienced  local  animal  to  keep  his  feet  on 
the  large,  smooth  cobblestones.  In  such  a city,  where 
there  never  were  rich  people  and  no  church  had  any 
special  sanctity,  one  cannot  expect  to  find  that  charm, 
frequent  in  the  old  cities  of  Spain,  which  arises  from  the 
variety  of  architectural  detail  in  the  buildings.  Few  in 
La  Paz  bear  an  air  of  antiquity,  few  have  anything 
picturesque  in  gables  or  doors  or  windows.  The  same 
thing  is  true  of  the  churches  also.  Some  have  a more 
spacious  interior  than  others,  some  a richer  fagade,  some 
statelier  towers,  but  all  are  of  the  invariable  late  six- 
teenth- and  seventeenth-century  type,  with  the  same 
heavy  and  often  tawdry  ornament  in  the  nave  and 
choir.  The  churches  of  the  friars  have  often  more 
quality  than  the  others ; and  here  San  Francisco  with 
its  handsome  front  and  elaborate  reredos  pleased  us 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  175 


better  than  the  Cathedral.  There  are  a few  good  houses, 
some  of  which  tradition  allots  to  former  governors,  with 
galleries  built  round  the  patio  and  gateways  surmounted 
by  armorial  bearings,  but  the  patio  is  cheerless,  for  it 
is  apt  to  be  a reservoir  of  chilled  air.  The  central  Plaza, 
where  one  usually  looks  to  find  the  best  that  a town 
can  do,  is  here  quite  small,  but  tastefully  laid  out.  On 
one  side  of  it  are  the  government  offices,  on  another 
the  seat  of  the  legislature,  not  a bad  building,  if  it  were 
not  surmounted  by  a zinc  spire.  The  markets  are  the 
most  interesting  places,  because  here,  as  in  the  open-air 
booths  of  the  Plaza  San  Francisco  and  still  more  in 
the  large  covered  passages  of  the  principal  Mercado 
(much  like  an  Oriental  bazaar  or  the  Suk  at  Tunis), 
one  sees  not  only  the  various  fruits  and  roots  and 
grains,  the  scanty  produce  of  the  plateau  and  of  the 
nearest  warmer  valleys,  together  with  such  textile 
fabrics  as  native  industry  weaves  or  embroiders,  but 
also  the  natives  themselves  in  all  their  variety  of 
costume.  The  Indian  wears  a felt  hat,  and  the  mestizo 
(half-breed),  who  belongs  to  a higher  social  stratum,  a 
straw  one.  The  former  has  always,  the  latter  often,  a 
woollen  poncho,  brightly  coloured,  over  his  rough  and 
dirty  cotton  shirt  and  short,  loose  trousers.  The  white 
man,  or  the  mestizo  of  the  upper  class  who  considers 
himself  to  be  white,  wears  a European  cloth  coat,  and 
usually  for  warmth’s  sake  a cloak  or  overcoat  above 
it ; this  is  the  distinctive  note  of  social  pretension. 
The  native  women  are  gorgeous  in  brilliantly  coloured 
woollen  petticoats,  very  heavy  and  very  numerous. 


176 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Orange  and  pink  are  the  favourite  colours.  Strong  and 
solidly  built  as  these  Indian  women  are,  one  wonders 
how  their  waists  can  support  the  weight  of  three,  four, 
or  even  five  of  these  thick  pieces  of  closely  woven  cloth. 

Thus,  though  there  is  not  much  for  the  tourist  to  see 
or  do,  nor  for  the  art  student  to  admire,  still  La-  Paz 
is  a picturesque  place,  with  a character  so  peculiar  that 
it  makes  for  itself  a niche  in  the  memory  and  stays 
there,  as  being  unlike  any  other  place.  The  strange  ir- 
regularity of  the  steep,  rough  streets  with  cliffs  of  brown 
earth  standing  up  at  the  ends  of  them,  the  brawling 
torrent,  the  wild-looking  Indians  in  their  particoloured 
dresses,  the  flocks  of  graceful  llamas  with  their  long, 
curved  necks  and  liquid,  wondering  eyes,  the  extraordi- 
nary situation  of  the  city  in  this  deep  pit,  deep  but  not 
dark,  for  the  vertical  sun  blazes  into  it  all  day  long ; and, 
above  all,  the  magnificent  snowy  mass  of  Illimani,  tower- 
ing into  the  sapphire  blue  sky  with  glaciers  that  seem  to 
hang  over  the  city  though  they  are  forty  miles  away, 
its  three  pinnacles  of  snow  turning  to  a vivid  rose 
under  the  departing  sun,  — all  these  together  make 
La  Paz  a fascinating  spot,  one  of  those  which  flash 
quickly  and  vividly  before  the  mind  when  you  think 
of  them. 

The  outskirts  of  the  city,  too  bare  and  stern  for  beauty, 
have  a weird  grimness  which  approaches  grandeur.  A 
pretty  avenue  between  rows  of  Eucalyptus,  the  only  tree 
that  seems  to  thrive  here,  and  which  stands  the  frost 
better  than  it  does  in  England,  perhaps  because  Bolivia 
has  a dry  air  and  a strong  sun  which  more  nearly  repro- 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  177 


duce  the  conditions  of  its  Australian  home,  leads  to  a 
public  park  whence  a splendid  view  of  the  surrounding 
heights  and  down  the  valley  is  obtained.  The  precipices 
of  hard  earth  that  enclose  it  have  been  here  and  there 
broken  up  into  lofty  earth  pyramids  like  those  which 
one  sees  near  Botzen  in  Tyrol,  and  have  doubtless 
been  formed,  like  those,  by  the  action  of  rain  upon  the 
softer  parts  of  the  cliff.  Behind  the  eastern  earth  wall 
rise  the  spurs  and  buttresses  of  the  Cordillera,  wild, 
bare  glens  running  up  to  the  watershed  of  the  chain, 
across  the  head  of  one  of  which  is  the  pass  which  leads 
down  into  the  forest  Montana.  It  reminded  me  of  some 
of  the  recesses  among  the  Noric  Alps  behind  Gastein, 
but  was  on  a vaster  scale,  and  more  gloomy,  as  Andean 
landscapes  usually  are.  Quitting  the  city  on  another 
side,  I rode  southward  for  some  seven  or  eight  miles 
along  the  road  which  leads  down  the  gorge,  by  a long 
and  devious  course,  through  the  heart  of  the  Eastern 
Cordillera  under  the  southern  flanks  of  Illimani,  into  the 
land  of  gold  and  rubber,  of  alligators  and  jaguars.  In  the 
sheltered  nooks  at  the  lower  end  of  the  town  there  were 
gardens  full  of  bamboos  and  flowering  shrubs,  and  one 
met  strings  of  llamas,  mules,  and  donkeys  coming  up  the 
road,  laden  with  tropical  fruits  and  other  products  of 
the  Yungas,  as  this  region  is  called.  Farther  down 
the  scenery  was  stern  and  harsh,  with  great  rock- 
masses,  crowning  slopes  that  rose  steeply  three  or  four 
thousand  feet  above  the  valley,  but  here  and  there 
where  there  was  room  for  cultivation  beside  the  river, 
a patch  of  bright  green  alfalfa  relieved  its  monotony  of 


N 


178 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


brown  and  black  — a weird  country,  with  these  sharp 
contrasts  of  heat  and  cold,  of  verdure  and  sterility.  The 
air  was  already  warm,  and  after  thirty  miles,  one  comes 
into  the  rains  and  the  insects  and  the  fevers  of  the 
tropics. 

Within  the  city  there  is  little  for  a visitor  to  do  except 
wander  through  the  market  and  buy  rugs  made  of  the 
deliciously  soft  and  warm  wool  of  the  vicuna,  the  finest 
and  costliest  of  Andean  skins.  Neither  is  there  much 
to  see  except  the  museum,  which  contains  an  interesting 
collection  of  minerals,  specimens  of  woods,  stuffed 
animals,  and  all  sorts  of  curiosities,  such  as  Indian  weap- 
ons and  various  kinds  of  handiwork.  As  the  rooms  are 
far  too  small  for  their  contents,  these  are  not  seen  to 
advantage.  The  gentleman  who  seems  to  have  the 
chief  share  in  the  management  (Senor  Ballivian)  is  a 
historical  scholar  and  archaeologist  of  high  repute,  be- 
longing to  one  of  the  old  families  of  La  Paz.  Such 
accomplishments  are  not  common  in  Bolivia,  yet  there 
are  few  countries  which  offer  a wider  and  more  attrac- 
tive field  to  the  naturalist  and  to  the  student  of  eth- 
nology. 

The  legislature  being  in  session,  I was  invited  to 
be  present  at  its  sittings.  Both  houses  are  small  in 
number  and  are  composed  chiefly  of  lawyers,  as,  in- 
deed, are  most  South  American  legislative  bodies,  law 
being  the  occupation  which  naturally  leads  to  and 
comports  with  the  profession  of  politics.  On  this 
particular  occasion  the  proceedings  were  unexciting 
and  the  speeches  conversational  in  tone.  Members 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  179 


speak  sitting,  a practice  which,  though  general  in 
these  republics,  seems  ill  adapted  for  displays  of  that 
sonorous  eloquence  which  belongs  to  the  Spanish-Ameri- 
can  temperament.  Among  the  eminent  citizens  whom 
it  was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  none  impressed  me 
more  than  the  veteran  General  Pando,  who  has  been 
president  of  the  republic  and  might  have  been  so  again, 
had  not  his  patriotism  made  him  prefer  to  devote  his 
energies  to  the  organization  of  the  Bolivian  army,  the 
smallness  of  which  makes  its  efficiency  all  the  more 
needful.  Nobody  in  the  country  is  more  widely  re- 
spected and  trusted. 

There  is  a handful  of  foreign  residents,  German  busi- 
ness men,  English  and  North  American  railway  men,  a 
pleasant  little  society.  The  best  school  is  said  to  be 
that  conducted  by  a North  American  mission,  which, 
however,  devotes  itself  to  education  and  not  to  prose- 
lytizing. Children  of  good  Roman  Catholic  families 
attend  it. 

That  the  educated  residents  of  Spanish  stock  should 
be  few  is  not  surprising  when  one  realizes  that  La  Paz 
is  really  an  Indian  city.  Aymard  is  the  language  com- 
monly spoken  by  three-fourths  or  more  of  its  inhabitants. 
It  has  probably  a larger  aboriginal  population  than  any 
other  city  in  the  New  World,  though  the  percentage  of 
Indians  may  be  somewhat  greater  in  Asuncion,  the 
capital  of  Paraguay.  This  may  be  a fitting  place  to 
give  a brief  account  of  their  present  condition,  since 
of  what  they  seem  to  have  been  before  the  Conquest 
something  has  been  said  in  the  last  preceding  chapter. 


180 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Though  the  bulk  of  the  inhabitants  of  La  Paz  and 
Cuzco  are  Indians,  the  larger  Andean  towns  are 
generally  Spanish  in  appearance,  and  it  is  in  the  rural 
districts  that  the  Indian  is  best  seen  and  understood. 
He  is  essentially  an  agriculturist.  Nearly  all  the  land 
except  in  some  coast  plantations  where  a little  Qhinese 
or  negro  labour  is  employed  is  cultivated  by  the  Indian, 
and  all  the  llamas  and  sheep  are  herded  by  him. 
There  is,  indeed,  no  other  industry  by  which  a living 
can  be  made,  except  mining,  for  no  factories  on  a large 
scale  yet  exist  in  these  countries.  Attached  to  the  land, 
and  dwelling  usually  in  small  villages  which,  save  in 
fertile  tracts  like  the  Vilcamayu  Valley,  are  seldom  near 
together,  the  Indian  has  retained  the  beliefs  and  habits 
of  his  forefathers  more  than  even  the  peasantry  of 
Russia  or  the  Turkish  dominions.  His  primitive  organi- 
zation, the  ayllu  or  clan,  composed,  like  the  Roman  gens, 
or  perhaps  rather  like  a Greek  phratry,  of  persons  who 
traced  their  descent  to  a supposed  common  ancestor,  still 
subsists  in  Bolivia,  though  it  has  of  late  years  been  inter- 
fered with  by  a new  kind  of  grouping,  that  of  the  tenants 
or  labourers  on  the  same  finca  (landed  estate) . A num- 
ber of  ayllus  made  up  a tribe,  but  this  division  has  lost  its 
importance  since  the  cacique  or  chief  of  ancient  times  van- 
ished. In  every  Indian  agricultural  community  there  are 
two  officials.  One  is  the  Ilacata,  whose  functions  are  ad- 
ministrative, including  the  division  of  the  land  each  year 
between  the  persons  who  are  to  till  it  and  the  receipt  of 
the  crops  from  common  land,  and  the  supervision  of 
common  labour.  The  other  is  the  Alcalde,  who  com- 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  181 


bines  executive  and  judicial  powers,  maintaining  order, 
deciding  petty  disputes,  and  leading  in  fighting  if  the 
need  for  fighting  should  arise.  The  peasant,  though 
legally  free,  practically  goes  with  the  estate,  and 
though  legally  a voter,  practically  does  not  vote,  the 
government  being  kind  enough  to  relieve  the  rural 
citizens,  and  frequently  the  urban  ones  also,  from  a 
duty  which  few  of  them  are  qualified  to  discharge. 
They  are  in  some  places  oppressed  by  the  landowners,  — 
that  one  must  expect  where  there  is  a great  difference 
of  race  and  capacity,  — yet  much  less  than  in  colonial 
days,  for  there  have  been  Indian  risings,  and  firearms 
are  more  largely  in  their  hands  than  formerly.  They 
so  preponderate  in  numbers  that  any  movement  which 
united  them  against  the  upper  class  might,  could  they 
find  a leader,  have  serious  consequences.  Thus  the  fear 
of  trouble  restrains  the  excesses  of  power.  Those  who 
have  land  of  their  own  are  said  to  fare  as  ill  at  the 
hands  of  the  lawyer  and  money-lender  as  any  tenant 
could  do  at  those  of  a landlord. 

Scarcely  any  are  educated.  In  Titicaca  Island,  with 
a population  of  about  three  hundred,  there  was  a 
few  years  ago  only  one  man  who  could  read.  In  all 
Bolivia  only  30,000  children  were  in  the  schools  out  of 
a population  of  2,000,000.  The  sparseness  of  the  popu- 
lation makes  the  provision  of  instruction  difficult ; nor 
do  the  aborigines  seem  to  care  for  education,  being  so 
far  satisfied  with  their  lot  as  to  have  no  notion  of  other 
pleasures  than  those  which  their  fairs  and  festivals 
supply,  and  those  derived  from  the  use  of  alcohol  at 


182 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


these  festivals,  and  at  all  times  of  the  coca  leaf,  which 
is  for  an  Indian  the  first  necessity  of  life.  He  is  never 
without  his  bag  containing  a bundle  of  leaves,  which  he 
masticates  (usually  with  a little  clay)  while  walking  or 
working,  finding  in  them  a support  which  enables  him 
to  endure  fatigue  without  food  for  long  periods.''  The 
leaf  when  chewed  is  tasteless,  and  whether  taken  thus 
or  in  a decoction  produces  no  directly  pleasurable  feeling 
of  stimulus.  I have  experimented  with  it  in  both 
forms  without  being  able  to  discover  any  result  except 
that  of  arresting  hunger.  Taken  by  chewing  the  leaf,  as 
the  Indians  take  it,  it  cannot  have  the  highly  deleterious 
effects  of  cocaine,  which  is  a concentrated  essence ; in- 
deed, if  it  had  those  effects,  the  aborigines  of  the  plateau 
must  have  been  long  ago  ruined  by  it.1  Possibly  there  is 
something  in  the  physical  conditions  of  their  life  render- 
ing it  comparatively  or  altogether  innocuous.  It  does 
not  seem  to  be  much  used  by  the  whites,  nor  in  the 
lowlands  by  any  class  of  the  population.  Perhaps, 
therefore,  it  is  “indicated”  in  the  mild  form  of  a chewed 
leaf,  as  a stimulant  suitable  to  those  who  take  continu- 
ous exertion  at  great  altitudes. 

What  has  been  said  here  refers  generally  to  the  aborig- 
ines of  the  high  Andean  regions,  but  there  are  two  great 
divisions  of  them,  the  characteristics  of  which  are  not 
altogether  the  same.  In  very  early  times  there  were 
probably  many  diverse  tribes,  and  every  valley  spoke 
a language,  or  at  least  a dialect,  of  its  own.  This 

1 Its  habitual  use  may  have  contributed  to  give  the  Aymaras  that 
impassive  dulness  which  characterizes  the  race. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  183 


is  still  the  case  in  the  Montana  region  (the  forests  at  the 
east  foot  of  the  Andes),  where  adjoining  tribes  are  some- 
times wholly  unlike  one  another  in  speech  and  aspect. 
The  conquests  of  the  Incas,  with  their  levelling  and  unify- 
ing rule,  effaced  most  of  these  distinctions.  There  was 
a tongue  called  Mochica  spoken  by  the  coast  people 
of  Chimu,  the  race  to  whose  artistic  talent  reference 
was  made  in  last  chapter,  which  seems  to  have  been 
quite  unlike  the  speech  of  the  plateau.  It  is  now  ex- 
tinct, but  a grammar,  made  by  a learned  ecclesiastic, 
has  fortunately  survived.  There  is  also  another  dis- 
tinct tongue  which  remains  among  a half-savage  tribe 
called  the  Urus,  who  dwell,  now  very  few  in  number, 
among  the  rushy  lagoons  on  the  Desaguadero  River, 
near  the  southwest  end  of  Lake  Titicaca.  With  these 
exceptions,  the  Spaniards  seem  to  have  found  on  their 
arrival  only  two  forms  of  speech  prevailing  over  Peru, 
corresponding  to  two  racial  divisions,  the  Quichuas  to 
which  the  Incas  apparently  belonged,  and  the  Aymaras. 
The  latter  held  all  the  Collao,  i.e.  the  country  round 
Titicaca,  and  south  of  it  round  La  Paz.  The  former 
occupied  the  northern  valleys  of  Peru  and  the  coasi 
regions  south  of  Lima,  and  a part  of  what  is  now  south- 
ern Bolivia  around  Oruro  and  Uyuni.  As  these  two 
languages  are  of  the  same  type,  it  is  generally  held  that 
the  Quichua  and  Aymard  races  are  cognate.  Those  who 
know  both  declare  that  the  Quichuas  are  the  gentler 
and  the  less  forcible.  The  Aymaras,  by  the  testimony 
of  European  as  well  as  Peruvian  observers,  are  ruder  in 
manners,  more  sullen  and  vindictive  in  disposition. 


184 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Both  races  are  alike  secretive  and  suspicious  of  the 
whites,  and  for  this  sentiment  they  have  had  good  reason. 
The  impressions  of  a passing  traveller  are  of  no  value, 
but  it  seemed  to  me,  in  noting  the  faces  and  deportment 
of  the  Indians  whom  we  saw,  that  while  both  races  had 
less  intelligence  and  rather  less  look  of  personal  dignity 
than  the  Indians  of  Mexico,  the  Aymaras  seemed  both  a 
more  dogged  and  a less  cheerful  race  than  the  Quichuas. 
We  might,  perhaps,  expect  to  find  little  buoyancy  of  spirit 
in  those  to  whom  Nature  turns  on  this  wind-swept  roof  of 
the  world  so  stern  a countenance.  Yet  the  Icelander, 
whose  far-distant  isle  is  surrounded  by  a melancholy 
ocean,  is  of  a lively  and  cheerful  temper. 

Both  Quichuas  and  Aymaras  have  that  remarkable 
impassiveness  and  detachment  which  belongs  to  all  the 
American  peoples  and  which  in  the  Old  World  one  finds 
only  in  some  of  the  East  Asiatic  races.  With  plenty  of 
stability,  they  lack  initiative.  They  make  steady  sol- 
diers, and  fight  well  under  white,  or  mestizo,  leaders, 
but  one  seldom  hears  of  a pure  Indian  accomplishing 
anything  or  rising  either  through  war  or  politics,  or  in 
any  profession,  above  the  level  of  his  class.  The  Mexican 
Juarez,  the  conqueror  of  Maximilian  and  of  the  priest- 
hood, was  a pure-blooded  Indian.  Since  the  days  of 
the  Araucanian  chiefs  Lautaro  and  Caupolican,  South 
America  has  shewn  no  native  quite  equal  to  him.  Curi- 
osity and  ambition  are  alike  wanting  to  the  race. 
Though  one  sees  plenty  of  Indian  blood  in  Peruvians 
and  Bolivians  of  eminence,  so  that  there  must  have  been 
formerly  much  racial  intermixture,  and  though  there  is 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  185 


practically  no  social  distinction  (except  in  three  or  four 
cities)  between  the  white  and  the  educated  mestizo,  in- 
termarriage between  pure  Indians  and  pure  Europeans 
is  very  uncommon. 

The  Indian  of  the  plateau  is  still  only  a half-civilized 
man  and  less  than  half  a Christian.  He  retains  his 
primeval  Nature  worship,  which  groups  together  the 
spirits  that  dwell  in  mountains,  rivers,  and  rocks  with 
the  spirits  of  ancestors,  revering  and  propitiating  all  as 
Achachilas.  In  the  same  ceremony  his  medicine  man 
invokes  the  Christian  “ Dios  ” to  favour  the  building  of 
a house,  or  whatever  enterprise  he  undertakes,  and 
simultaneously  invokes  the  Achachilas,  propitiating 
them  also  by  offerings,  the  gift  made  to  the  Earth 
Spirit  being  buried  in  the  soil.1  Similarly  he  retains 
the  ceremonial  dances  of  heathendom  and  has  secret 
dancing  guilds,  of  whose  mysteries  the  white  man  can 
learn  nothing.  His  morality  is  what  it  was,  in  theory 
and  practice,  four  centuries  ago.  He  neither  loves  nor 
hates,  but  fears,  the  white  man,  and  the  white  man 
neither  loves  nor  hates,  but  despises  him,  there  being 
some  fear,  at  least  in  Bolivia,  mingled  with  the  con- 
tempt. They  are  held  together  neither  by  social  rela- 
tions nor  by  political,  but  by  the  need  which  the  white 
landowner  has  for  the  Indian’s  labour  and  by  the  power 
of  long  habit  which  has  made  the  Indian  acquiesce  in 
his  subjection  as  a rent  payer.  Neither  of  them  ever 
refers  to  the  Conquest.  The  white  man  does  not  honour 

1 Mr.  Bandelier  ( Islands  of  Titicaca  and  Koati)  gives  an  interest- 
ing description  of  such  a ceremony. 


186 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  memory  of  Pizarro ; to  the  Indian  the  story  is  too 
dim  and  distant  to  affect  his  mind.  Nor  is  it  the  least 
remarkable  feature  of  the  situation  that  the  mestizo,  or 
half-breed,  forms  no  link  between  the  races.  He  prefers 
to  speak  Spanish  which  the  Indian  rarely  understands. 
Pie  is  held  to  belong  to  the  upper  race,  which  ^s,  for 
social  and  political  purposes,  though  not  by  right  of 
numbers,  the  Peruvian  (or  Bolivian)  nation. 

In  no  capital  city  have  I felt  so  far  removed  from  the 
great  world,  the  European  and  Asiatic  and  North  Ameri- 
can parts  of  which  are  now  so  closely  linked  together,  as 
here  in  La  Paz.  There  may  probably  be  an  equal  sense 
of  isolation  in  Quito  and  Bogota,  there  can  hardly  be 
a stronger  one.  To  be  enclosed  between  two  lofty 
ranges  and  two  deserts,  to  live  at  the  bottom  of  a hole 
and  yet  be  nearly  as  high  above  sea-level  as  the  top  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  or  the  Jungfrau  are  strange  conditions 
for  a dwelling  place.  Nevertheless  it  was  a place  in 
which  one  might  do  much  meditation,  for  new  sensa- 
tions awaken  new  thoughts,  and  solitude  helps  one  to 
pursue  them.  So  it  was  with  regret  for  everything  ex- 
cept its  climate  that  we  quitted  La  Paz  early  one  morn- 
ing to  resume  our  southward  journey,  bidding  a long 
farewell  to  the  Achachila 1 of  the  majestic  Illimani,  to 
which  we  had  offered  orisons  of  admiration  in  each  dawn- 
ing and  each  departing  light.  After  we  had  climbed  to 
the  rim  of  the  Barranca  in  the  electric  car,  an  hour’s 
run  on  the  steam  railroad  carried  us  across  the  open 
plateau  to  Viacha,  whence  one  route  leads  to  Titicaca 
1 Mountain  Spirit. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  187 


and  over  the  lake  to  Mollendo,  and  another,  now  in  con- 
struction, will  in  1913  be  ready  to  carry  passengers  dowrn 
through  the  great  Western  Cordillera  to  the  Pacific  at 
Arica.1  As  this  will  be  hereafter  the  most  direct  way  of 
reaching  La  Paz  from  the  coast,  Viacha  may  some  day 
be  an  important  railroad  centre,  like  Crewe  or  Chicago 
or  Cologne.  At  present  it  is  inexpressibly  bleak  and 
dreary,  standing  alone  on  a dusty  and  treeless  waste. 
But  the  traveller  of  the  future  who  has  to  wait  here 
to  “make  his  connections”  will,  while  he  paces  up  and 
down  enquiring  how  much  the  incoming  train  is  behind 
time,  be  able  to  feast  his  eyes  on  the  incomparable  view 
of  the  great  Cordillera  Real,  piercing  the  northeastern 
sky,  and  here  ending  towards  the  south  in  the  snowy 
pyramid  of  Huayna  Potosi,  round  whose  flanks  gather 
the  clouds  that  rise  from  the  moist  eastern  forests 
sixteen  thousand  feet  below. 

At  Viacha  we  entered  the  cars  of  the  Antofagasta  and 
Bolivia  railroad,  owned  by  an  enterprising  English  com- 
pany, and  moved  off  to  the  south  across  a wide  undulat- 
ing plain  which  seemed  an  arid  waste,  but  turned  out 
to  be  pastured  upon  by  flocks  of  sheep  and  llamas. 
Dry  as  the  ground  looked,  — it  was  the  end  of  Septem- 
ber, when  the  summer  showers  were  just  beginning,  — 
there  was  feed  to  be  had  and  a few  brooks  here  and 
there  supplied  drink.  Some  of  those  ancient  round 
buildings  of  unmortared  stone  which  the  natives  call 
Chulpas  and  which  seem  to  have  served  as  tombs  rather 
than  shrines  were  to  be  seen.  Here  and  there  were  vil- 
lages, clusters  of  rude  mud  huts,  sometimes  with  a bare, 
1 This  line  has  now  (December,  1912)  been  completed. 


188 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ugly  church  far  too  large  for  the  place,  and  probably 
owing  its  size  to  the  zeal  of  some  seventeenth-century 
Jesuit  or  Augustinian.  At  first  low,  brown  mountains 
cut  off  to  the  west  the  view  of  that  Western  Cordillera 
through  which  the  Arica  line  is  making  its  difficult  way, 
but  presently  they  subside,  and  one  sees  far  off  across 
the  plain  a group  of  magnificent  snowy  peaks,  appar- 
ently, from  their  shape  and  their  isolation,  ancient  vol- 
canoes. Sahama,  the  highest,  a pyramidal  cone  of 
beautiful  proportions,  seemed,  from  the  amount  of  snow 
it  carried,  to  be  not  less  than  21,000  feet  high.  It  has 
never  yet  been  ascended.  In  this  western  range  the 
snow  line  is  higher  than  it  is  in  the  Eastern  Cordillera 
because  the  latter  receives  more  moisture.  To  the 
northeast  the  great  Cordillera  Real  which  one  admires 
from  Titicaca  has  now  disappeared  behind  the  low 
ridges  crossing  the  plain,  and  Illimani  is  seen  only 
now  and  then  overtopping  the  nearer  hills.  On  the 
east,  however,  farther  south  than  Illimani,  a new  line 
of  snows  comes  into  view,  distant,  perhaps,  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  and  doubtless  forming  part  of  the  Eastern 
Cordillera.  On  each  side  there  stretches  out  a wide 
plain,  but  in  one  place  the  line  runs  for  some  miles 
through  a range  of  hills  of  black  (apparently  volcanic) 
rock,  following  the  course  of  a stream  which  presently 
wanders  off  to  the  west  and  is  there  lost,  swallowed 
up  in  marshes.  Besides  the  tufts  of  coarse  bunch  grass 
and  a few  low  shrubs,  there  is  still  in  the  moister  spots 
some  little  pasture,  — it  is  astonishing  how  llamas  can 
find  something  to  eat  on  what  seems  bare  ground,  — • 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  189 


but  the  land  grows  more  and  more  sterile  as  the  line 
continues  southward.  Presently  the  Indian  villages 
cease ; and  great  flats  are  seen  to  the  west  which  are 
covered  by  water  in  the  wet  season.  At  last  a group 
of  high,  brown  hills  marks  the  site  of  Oruro,  an  old  and 
famous  mining  town,  one  of  whose  mines,  which  has 
been  worked  for  hundreds  of  years,  formerly  stood 
second  only  to  Potosi  in  its  output  of  silver.  Copper 
and  tin  as  well  as  silver  are  worked  in  the  hills,  and  on 
mining  depends  the  prosperity  of  the  town,  which  has 
now  some  twenty  thousand  inhabitants.  The  long, 
straight  streets  of  mean  one-story  adobe  houses,  covered 
with  plaster,  with  only  a few  better  residences  where  the 
business  men  and  foreign  mining  people  live,  give  little 
idea  of  the  former  importance  of  the  place,  but  there  is 
a large  and  rather  handsome  Plaza  wherein  stand  the 
government  buildings  and  a well-built  arcade  contain- 
ing good  shops.  Beside  the  big  church  are  two  enor- 
mous bells,  of  which  the  city  has  long  been  proud, 
but  which  have  to  stand  on  the  ground  because  too 
heavy  for  the  little  erection  on  the  church  roof  on 
which  the  bells  in  daily  use  are  hung.  To  the  east,  be- 
yond a barren  flat  some  eight  or  ten  miles  wide,  a range 
of  hills  bounds  the  plateau,  and  beyond  them  the  ground 
falls  towards  the  Argentine  frontier,  so  that  within  a day 
or  two’s  riding  one  can  get  off  this  dry  land  of  scorching 
days  and  freezing  nights  down  into  soft  moist  air  and 
tall  trees. 

Oruro  used  to  be  the  end  of  the  railway  which  came 
up  hither  from  the  Pacific  coast,  and  from  here  south- 


190 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ward  the  gauge  is  of  only  two  feet  and  a half.  It  is, 
however,  to  be  widened,  for  traffic  is  increasing,  and 
the  company  prosperous. 

Next  to  the  Germans,  the  most  ubiquitous  people  in 
the  world  are  the  Aberdonians,  so  I was  scarcely  sur- 
prised to  meet  one  here  in  the  person  of  the  principal 
doctor  of  the  place,  who,  when  we  had  talked  about  our 
friends  on  the  banks  of  the  far-distant  Dee,  gave  me 
much  information  regarding  the  health  conditions  of 
Bolivia.  He  described  Oruro  as  a more  agreeable  place 
of  residence  than  its  rather  dreary  externals  promised. 
There  was  some  agreeable  society,  for  mining,  which 
does  not  improve  the  quality  of  the  working  population, 
usually  draws  to  a place  a number  of  men  of  superior 
ability  and  sometimes  of  scientific  attainments.  Here, 
as  elsewhere  in  Bolivia,  foreigners,  including  some  Chil- 
eans, own  the  mines,  while  business  is  chiefly  in  the 
hands  of  Germans.  Manual  labour  is  done  by  Indians 
(here  speaking  Quichua),  whose  number  does  not  in- 
crease, because,  although  the  families  are  large,  the 
mortality  among  their  children  is  very  high,  or  else  by 
half-breeds,  here  usually  called  Cholos,  who  would  be 
good  workers,  were  they  not  addicted  to  the  use  of  the 
horrible  spirits  that  are  too  easily  procurable.  There 
are,  however,  also  some  Chilean  half-breeds  and  some 
English-speaking  men,  brought  for  the  higher  kinds  of 
work. 

About  twenty  miles  away  to  the  south  is  the  great 
lagoon  called  Aullagas  or  Poopo,  — the  names  are  taken 
from  villages  on  its  shores,  — which  is  fed  by  the  river 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  191 


Desaguadero.  This  singular  lake,  which  has  the  inter- 
est of  a vanishing  quantity,  is  fifty-three  miles  long  by 
twenty-four  broad,  is  nowhere  more  than  nine  feet  deep 
and  mostly  less  than  five,  is  salt,  turbid,  with  a bottom 
of  dark  mud,  and  full  of  fish  too  small  to  be  worth  catch- 
ing. Like  those  of  Titicaca  they  belong  to  species  found 
nowhere  else.  Having  so  small  a volume  in  proportion 
to  the  surface  area  which  it  exposes  to  a strong  sun 
and  an  intensely  dry  air,  it  loses  by  evaporation  all  the 
water  it  receives  by  the  river  from  Titicaca  and  prob- 
ably a little  more,  for  it  seems  to  be  now  shrinking. 
When  Titicaca,  itself  probably  subsiding,  has  still  less 
to  give,  Poopo  will  disappear  altogether,  and  this  plain 
will  become  a sheet  of  glittering  salt.1 

As  one  pursues  the  journey  farther  south,  the  country 
becomes  always  more  arid,  and  at  Uyuni,  the  next  town 
of  consequence,  it  is  a veritable  desert  where  only  the 
smallest  stunted  shrubs  are  seen  among  the  sand  and 
stones.  This  uninhabited  region  will  soon  be  a converg- 
ing point  of  railroads,  for  it  is  here  that  the  existing 
line  from  La  Paz  to  the  Pacific  coast  at  Antofagasta 
is  to  be  joined  by  the  new  railway  which  is  to  be  con- 
structed to  provide  a quick  through  route  from  centra’l 
Boh  via  to  the  Atlantic  coast  at  Buenos  Aires.  Its  com- 
pletion from  Uyuni  to  Tupiza  near  the  Argentine  bor- 
der is  expected  by  1916,  and  when  the  link  has  been 
made,  there  will  be  a complete  railway  connection  across 
the  Continent  from  the  River  Plate  to  the  Pacific  at 

1 1 take  these  details  from  Dr.  Romero’s  Los  Lagos  de  los 
Altiplanos,  translated  from  the  French  of  Dr.  Neveu  Lemaire. 


192 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Arica.  Bolivia  has  hitherto  suffered  greatly  from  the 

want  of  communications,  so  when  La  Paz  has  been 

brought  within  twenty-four  hours  of  the  one  ocean  at 

Arica  and  within  seventy-two  or  eighty  hours  of  the 

other  at  Buenos  Aires,  a great  impetus  ought  to  be  given 

to  her  export  trade.  This  lofty  and  desert  part  of  Bo- 

/ 

livia  finds  its  only  source  of  wealth  in  minerals.  The 
Western  Cordillera  is  especially  rich  in  copper  and  sil- 
ver, the  Eastern  in  gold  and  tin.  One-third  of  all  the 
world’s  production  of  tin  now  comes  from  Bolivia.  Be- 
sides the  silver  found  in  various  places,  — the  great  silver 
mountain  is  still  worked  at  Potosi,  — the  eastern  spurs 
of  the  Peruvian  and  Bolivian  Andes  are  believed  to  con- 
tain plenty  of  gold,  which  would  be  extracted  from  the 
gravels,  perhaps  from  rock  reefs  also,  much  more  exten- 
sively, but  for  the  extreme  difficulty  of  conveying  mine 
machinery  across  the  mountains  down  abrupt  slopes 
and  through  trackless  forests.  It  was  from  these  East 
Andean  regions  that  the  Incas  obtained  those  vast 
stores  of  gold  which  excited  the  cupidity  of  the  Span- 
iards. Pizarro  got  from  Atahuallpa  a quantity  roughly 
estimated  at  £3,000,000  ($15,000,000)  on  a promise  that 
the  Inca’s  life  would  be  spared, — a promise  broken  as 
soon  as  most  of  the  gold  had  been  delivered.  Yet  the 
contemporary  Spanish  annalists  declare  that  what  the 
Spaniards  laid  their  hands  upon  first  and  last  in  the  days 
of  the  Conquest  was  much  less  than  what  the  Indians 
buried  or  threw  into  the  lakes  when  they  could  no  longer 
guard  it.  Great,  however,  as  is  the  mineral  wealth  of 
the  Bolivian  highlands,  it  is  less  on  them,  than  on  the 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  193 


development  of  the  agricultural  and  pastoral  resources 
of  the  eastern  part  of  the  republic  that  future  prosperity 
must  in  the  long  run  depend.  Mines  are  a transitory 
source  of  wealth ; they  enrich  the  foreign  capitalist 
rather  than  the  nation  itself ; they  do  not  help  to  build 
up  an  intelligent  and  settled  body  of  responsible  citizens. 

It  is  not  solely  for  the  sake  of  industry  and  com- 
merce that  Bolivia  may  welcome  the  advent  of  railways. 
She  is  the  least  naturally  cohesive  and  in  some  ways 
the  least  nationally  united  of  South  American  states. 
Europeans  and  North  Americans  hear  but  little  about 
her,  and  underestimate  the  difficulties  she  has  had  to 
contend  with.  Imagine  a country  as  big  as  the  Ger- 
man and  Austrian  dominions  put  together,  with  a 
population  less  than  that  of  Denmark,  four-fifths  of 
it  consisting  of  semicivilized  or  uncivilized  Indians,  and 
the  few  educated  men  of  European  or  mixed  stock 
scattered  here  and  there  in  half  a dozen  towns,  none  of 
which  has  more  than  a small  number  of  capable  citi- 
zens of  that  stock.  An  energetic  monarch  with  a small 
but  efficient  and  mobile  army  might  rule  such  a country, 
but  it  offers  obvious  difficulties  to  the  smooth  working 
of  a republican  government,  for  one  of  the  essentials  to 
such  a government  is  that  the  minority  of  competent 
citizens,  be  they  many  or  few,  should  be  in  easy  com- 
munication with  one  another,  capable  of  understanding 
one  another  and  of  creating  a public  opinion.  This  has 
hitherto  been  difficult,  owing  to  the  want  of  railways, 
for  Santa  Cruz,  Cochabamba,  and  Sucre  (Chuquisaca) 
have  all  been  a many  days’  journey  from  one  another  and 


194 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


from  La  Paz.  These  towns  know  little  of  one  another 
and  are  mutually  jealous.  The  old  Spanish-colonial 
element  in  them  regards  with  disfavour  the  larger  but 
more  Indian  La  Paz.  Sucre  is  made  the  legal  capital, 
but  neither  it  nor  any  other  city  has  both  the  size  and 
the  central  position  that  would  qualify  to  act  as"  a uni- 
fying force.  There  is  hardly  any  immigration,  and  little 
natural  increase  of  population,  so  the  vacant  spaces  do 
not  fill  up,  even  where  they  are  habitable.  Anything, 
therefore,  that  will  help  both  to  increase  the  material 
prosperity  of  Bolivia  and  to  draw  its  people  together 
will  be  a political  benefit. 

Besides  the  railway  which  is  to  run  from  Uyuni  to 
Buenos  Aires,  five  other  lines  through  the  High  Andes 
are  likely  to  be  constructed.  One  is  to  connect  Cuzco 
with  the  existing  railway  from  Lima  to  Oroya,  a won- 
derful line,  which  reaches  a height  of  15,600  feet.  A 
second  will  continue  that  line  eastward  to  the  Ucayali 
River.  A third  is  also  to  cross  the  Eastern  Cordillera 
from  Tirapata  (north  of  Lake  Titicaca)  to  the  river 
Madre  de  Dios.  A fourth  will  run  from  La  Paz  down 
the  canyon  of  its  torrent  to  the  river  Beni.  A fifth  will 
connect  Potosi  with  a port  upon  the  Paraguay  River  via 
Sucre  and  Santa  Cruz.  The  opening  of  these  com- 
munications must  accelerate  the  development  of  Peru 
and  Bolivia. 

Uyuni  is  smaller  than  Oruro,  and  even  less  attractive. 
It  has  an  enormous  empty  plaza  and  four  wide  streets 
of  mud  houses.  Standing  at  12,500  feet  above  sea- 
level,  in  a dry  and  cloudless  air,  where  the  radiation 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  195 


of  heat  is  great  the  moment  the  sun  goes  down,  we 
found  the  later  hours  of  night  so  cold  that  the  water 
froze  inside  our  sleeping  car,  while  the  heat  of  the  day, 
reflected  from  the  desert  floor,  is  no  less  intense.  There 
is  a famous  mine  at  Pulucayo,  in  the  eastern  mountain 
range,  — some  ten  miles  distant  from  Uyuni  and  fifteen 
hundred  feet  above  the  town.  We  mounted  to  it  by 
a little  railway  and  were  struck  by  the  appearance  or 
vegetation  when  we  had  risen  some  hundreds  of  feet 
above  the  torrid  plain.  Conspicuous  was  a cactus-like 
plant,  with  white,  silky  hairs,  lifting  its  prickly  fingers 
ten  feet  up,  and  ending  in  clusters  of  brilliant  crimson 
blossoms.  The  staff  of  the  French  company  who  work 
the  mine  received  us  hospitably  and  explained  the 
processes  of  extraction  and  the  way  in  which  electricity 
is  applied  to  do  the  work.  Silver,  copper,  zinc,  lead, 
and  iron  are  all  found  associated  here ; and  shafts  one 
thousand  feet  deep  are  sunk  from  the  long  galleries, 
driven  far  into  the  mountain,  one  of  which  goes  right 
through  to  Huanchaca  on  the  other  side.  A town  of 
six  or  seven  thousand  people  has  grown  up,  to  accommo- 
date the  labourers,  all  Indians  or  Cholos.1  A church  and 
school  and  tiny  theatre  have  been  built  for  them,  and 
as  their  hardy  frames  can  support  the  cold  and  the  thin 
air,  they  seem  cheerful  and  contented.  The  contrast 
between  the  refined  appliances  of  modern  science  and 
the  rudeness  of  semicivilized  man  never  seemed  sharper 
than  when  one  saw  this  machinery  and  these  labourers. 

1 The  name  Cholo  properly  means  the  offspring  of  a mestizo  and 
an  Indian,  but  it  seems  to  be  currently  used  to  describe  a peasant 
with  a marked  Indian  strain. 


196 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


From  this  height  of  about  fourteen  thousand  feet  one 
could  look  for  more  than  a hundred  miles  over  the 
desert,  — and  such  a desert ! Many  of  us  can  remember 
the  awe  and  mystery  which  the  word  Wilderness  in  the 
Old  Testament  used  to  call  up  in  a child’s  mind.  When 
a boy  reads  of  the  Desert  of  Sahara,  he  pictures  it  as 
terrible  and  deathful.  After  he  has  grown  up  and 
travelled  outside  Europe,  the  only  continent  that  has  no 
wildernesses,  and  has  seen  the  deserts  on  either  side  of 
Egypt,  or  the  Kalahari  in  South  Africa,  or  the  deserts 
of  India,  or  Arizona,  or  Iceland,  he  comes  to  realize 
that  a large  part  of  the  earth’s  surface  is  desert,  and 
that  deserts,  if  awful,  can  have  also  a beauty  and  even 
a charm  of  their  own.1  This  may  not  seem  to  the 
practical  mind  to  be  a sufficient  final  cause  for  their 
existence,  but  that  is  a side  issue,  and  philosophy  has, 
since  Bacon’s  time,  ceased  to  enquire  into  final  causes. 
Of  the  deserts  I have  named,  those  of  northern  Arizona 
are  perhaps  the  most  beautiful,  but  this  high  plateau 
of  southern  Bolivia,  while  very  different,  is  not  less 
impressive. 

Right  in  the  midst  lay  a sparkling  plain  of  white. 
It  was  a huge  salt  marsh,  on  which  the  salt  crystals 
shone  like  silver,  for  at  this  season  it  looks  dry,  though 
soft  enough  to  engulf  and  entomb  in  its  bottomless 
depths  of  mud  any  misguided  wayfarer  who  may  at- 
tempt to  cross  it.  Beyond  it  to  the  northwest  and 
north  the  waste  of  sand  stretched  out  to  the  horizon, 

1 An  admirable  study  of  desert  scenery  may  be  found  in  a book  by 
Mr.  Van  Dyke  of  Rutgers  College  (in  New  Jersey),  entitled  The 
Desert. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  197 


while  southwest  and  south  long  ranges  of  serrated 
mountains  ran  hither  and  thither  across  the  vast  ex- 
panse, as  if  they  had  been  moulded  on  a relief  map, 
so  sharp  and  so  near  did  they  seem  to  lie,  though  fifty 
miles  away.  Some  were  capped  or  streaked  with  snow, 
indicating  in  this  arid  land  a height  of  seventeen 
thousand  feet. 

The  splendour  of  such  a view  consists  not  only  in  the 
sensuous  pleasure  which  the  eye  derives  from  the  range 
of  delicate  tints  and  from  the  fine  definition  of  mountain 
forms,  hardly  less  various  in  their  lines  than  they  are  in 
their  colours,  but  even  more  in  the  impression  which 
is  made  on  the  imagination.  The  immensity  and  com- 
plexity of  this  nature  speak  of  the  vast  scale  on  which 
natural  forces  work  and  of  the  immense  spaces  of  time 
which  their  work  has  occupied. 

Returning  to  the  railway  at  Uyuni,  we  set  off  in  the 
afternoon  on  our  southward  way  across  the  desert  floor, 
here  perfectly  flat  and  about  12,000  feet  above  the 
sea.  A deep  red  soil  promised  fertility  if  water  could  be 
brought  to  it,  but  there  was  not  a tree  nor  a house,  though 
many  a mirage  shewed  shining  water  pools  and  trees 
around  them.  Rocky  hillocks  rising  here  and  there  like 
islands  strengthened  the  impression  that  this  had  been 
in  some  earlier  age  the  bed  of  a great  inland  sea,  larger 
than  Lake  Superior  in  North  America,  stretching  from 
here  all  the  way  to  the  Vilcanota  peaks  north  of  Titi- 
caca, and  including,  besides  Titicaca  itself,  the  salt  lagoon 
of  Poopo  and  the  white  salt  marsh  we  had  seen  from 
the  heights  of  Pulucayo.  Subterranean  forces  which,  as 


198 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


we  know,  have  been  recently  at  work  all  over  these  re- 
gions, may  have  altered  the  levels,  and  alterations  of 
level  may,  in  their  turn,  have  induced  climatic  changes, 
which,  by  reducing  rainfall,  caused  the  inland  sea  to 
dry  up,  as  the  Great  Salt  Lake  of  Utah  and  the  Aral 

Sea  are  drying  up  now.  Looking  eastward,  we  could 

/ 

see  heavy  clouds  brooding  over  the  eastern  ranges, 
which  shewed  that  beyond  it  lay  valleys,  watered  by  the 
rains  which  the  trade-wind  brings  up  from  the  far- 
distant  Atlantic.  Presently  the  sweetest  hour  of  the  day 
came  as  the  grey  sternness  of  the  heights  to  the  south 
softened  into  lilac,  and  a pale  yellow  sunset,  such  as 
only  deserts  see,  flooded  the  plain  with  radiance.  The 
night  was  intensely  cold,  and  next  morning,  even  at 
eight  o’clock,  the  earth  was  frozen  hard  in  the  deep, 
dark  hollow  where  the  train  had  halted. 

We  were  now  just  inside  the  Chilean  frontier,  in 
the  heart  of  the  Western  Cordillera,  among  some  of 
the  loftiest  volcanic  mountains  of  the  Continent.  On 
one  side  a branch  line  of  railway,  the  highest  in  the 
world,  begins  its  long  climb  to  the  Collahuasi  copper 
mine.  On  the  other  side,  there  rose  above  us  the  huge 
black  mass  of  Ollague,1  snow  patches  on  its  southern 
side  and  steam  rising  in  wreaths  from  a cleft  not  far 
below  the  summit.  We  guessed  the  height  at  19,000 
feet.  The  Collahuasi  mine  is  nearly  16,000.  Beside  us 
was  what  seemed  a frozen  lake,  which  glittered  white 
when  the  welcome  sun  began  to  overtop  the  heights  and 
warm  our  shivering  bodies.  Although  the  height  is 
1 Pronounced  Oyawe. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  199 


only  12,200  feet,  this  is  a particularly  cold  spot,  and 
the  one  place  on  the  line  which  is  liable  to  severe 
snowstorms.  We  had  reached  the  smaller  of  the  two 
famous  lakes  of  borax,  parts  of  which  are  water  holding 
borax  in  solution,  while  the  rest  is  mud  covered  with 
the  valuable  substance.  They  have  neither  influent 
nor  outlet.  This  place,  and  a similar  lake  in  Peru,  not 
far  from  Arequipa,  furnish  the  world  with  a large  part 
of  its  supply,  the  rest  coming  from  California  and  Siberia 
and  Tibet,  where  the  conditions  of  a rainlessness  that 
keeps  the  deposit  from  being  washed  away  out  of  the  soil 
are  somewhat  similar.  Presently  we  reached  the  larger 
lake,  which  is  twelve  miles  long  and  two  to  five  wide, 
and  stopped  to  see  the  method  of  gathering  and  prepar- 
ing the  mineral.  One  end  of  the  (so-called)  lake  is  dry, 
a thin  stratum  of  whitish  earth  covering  the  bed  of 
borax,  which  is  about  three  feet  thick.  When  dug  out, 
the  mineral  is  spread  out  on  the  ground  round  the 
works  to  dry,  and  then  calcined  in  furnaces,  forming 
a white  mass  of  crystals,  which  are  packed  in  sacks 
and  sent  down  to  the  coast  to  be  shipped  to  Europe 
and  there  turned  into  the  borax  of  commerce.  A 
large  number  of  labourers  are  employed  in  this  lonely 
and  cheerless  spot  fifty  miles  from  the  nearest  village. 
When  I asked  what  fuel  was  used  for  the  furnaces, 
they  pointed  to  a long  wire  cable  stretched  through 
the  air  from  the  works  to  a point  high  on  the  mountain 
side  opposite  Ollague.  Down  this  rope  small  cars  were 
travelling,  containing  masses  of  a kind  of  very  hard, 
stiff  plant  with  whitish  flowers  so  inconspicuous  that 


200 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


it  is  usually  taken  for  a sort  of  moss.1  It  grows  abun- 
dantly on  the  slopes  between  eight  and  fourteen  thou- 
sand feet,  and  its  thick  hard  cushions  have  to  be  cut  out 
with  a pickaxe.  Being  very  resinous,  it  burns  with  a 
fierce  flame,  but  so  quickly  that  large  masses  must  be 
constantly  thrown  in  to  keep  the  fire  going.  JIardly 
anything  else  grows  on  the  mountains,  but  they  are 
inhabited  by  the  little  chinchilla,  whose  light  grey  fur, 
exquisitely  soft,  fetches  a high  price  in  Europe. 

From  this  point  onward  the  scenery  is  of  incompar- 
able grandeur.  I doubt  if  there  be  any  other  spot  in  the 
Andes  where  the  sternness  and  terror  that  surround  the 
volcano  are  equally  felt.  The  railway  skirts  the  borax 
lake  and  then  rises  slowly  along  a ledge  above  it, 
whence  one  looks  down  on  its  still  surface,  where  patches 
of  whitish  green  open  water  reflect  the  crags  and  snows 
of  the  peaks  that  tower  above.  The  deep,  dark  valley 
so  winds  and  turns  that  it  is  in  some  places  hard  to 
guess  where  the  exit  lies.  Above  it  stands  a line  of 
volcanoes,  seventeen  to  nineteen  thousand  feet  high. 
Their  tops  are  of  black  rock,  their  faces,  from  which 
here  and  there  black  crags  project,  are  slopes  of  ash 
and  cinders,  shewing  those  strange  and  gruesome  con- 
trasts of  colour  which  are  often  seen  in  the  mineral 
world  when  vegetation  and  the  atmosphere  have  not 
had  time  to  tell  upon  them.  In  some  of  these  peaks 
one  whole  side  of  the  crater  seems  to  have  been  blown 
out  by  an  explosion,  laying  bare  the  farther  wall  of  the 

1 It  is  called  Yareta,  and  reminds  one  a little  (though  it  is  larger 
and  harder)  of  the  Cherleria  sedoides  of  the  Scottish  Highlands. 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  201 


hollow,  for  the  colours  are  just  such  as  are  seen  in  craters 
like  those  of  Etna  and  Hekla,  though  here  more  vivid, 
because  here  there  is  so  little  rain  to  wash  off  their 
brightness.  One  such  breached  crater,  forming  the  face 
of  what  is  called  (from  the  variety  of  its  tints)  the 
Garden  Mountain,  displays  almost  every  colour  of  the 
spectrum,  bright  yellow  and  orange,  pink  and  purple, 
and  a brick  red  passing  into  dark  brown.  A ridge  that 
stands  out  on  its  face  shews  on  one  declivity  a yellowish 
white  and  on  the  other  a brilliant  crimson.  But  the 
intensity  of  these  colours  heightens  rather  than  reduces 
the  sombre  gloom  of  the  landscape.  One  seems  ad- 
mitted to  view  an  abandoned  laboratory  of  Nature, 
in  which  furnaces,  now  extinct  or  smouldering  low, 
fused  the  lavas  and  generated  the  steam  that  raised 
them  to  the  crater’s  edge  and  sent  them  forth  in  fiery 
streams.  Where  there  is  now  a deathlike  silence,  flames 
lit  up  the  darkness  of  the  clouds  of  ash  that  rose  with 
the  gushing  steam,  and  masses  of  red-hot  rock  were 
hurled  to  heaven  while  explosions  shook  the  earth 
beneath. 

In  the  middle  of  this  narrow  pathway  which  leads 
through  the  purple  depths  of  the  Cordillera  we  reach  at 
Ascotan  the  top  of  the  pass,  13,000  feet  above  sea-level, 
whence  the  valley,  turning  to  the  northwest,  begins  to  de- 
scend towards  the  Pacific.  The  majestic  portal  through 
which  one  looks  out  into  the  western  desert  is  guarded  by 
two  tall  volcanoes  standing  side  by  side,  St.  Peter  and  St. 
Paul.  The  latter  has  been  long  extinct,  but  San  Pedro 
still  smokes  or  steams  from  its  summit.  A red  hill  near 


202 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


its  foot  has  in  quite  recent  times  poured  forth  from  its 
crater  a vast  lava  stream  through  which  the  railway 
passes  in  a cutting,  and  which,  splitting  itself  wherever 
it  met  a natural  obstruction,  has  sent  its  long  black 
tongues  far  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Loa  River. 
For  here,  after  hundreds  of  miles,  one  comes  again  upon 
a river.  Behind  the  mass  of  San  Pedro  fountains  fed 
by  its  snow  break  forth  from  the  ground  and  come  down 
into  a clear  green  stream  wrhich  has  cut  its  way  through 
the  rock  in  a splendid  canon,  across  which  the  line  is 
carried.  The  river  has  been  turned  to  account  by  build- 
ing several  large  reservoirs,  whence  pipes  have  been  laid 
to  the  coast,  supplying  not  only  the  nitrate  fields  below 
(of  which  I shall  speak  presently),  but  also  the  seaports 
of  Antofagasta  and  Megillones  one  hundred  and  forty 
miles  away,  all  these  regions  being  without  brook  or 
spring. 

Here  we  emerged  from  the  mountains  into  broad  sun- 
shine and  saw  in  front  of  us  long  ridges  falling  away, 
one  behind  the  other,  towards  the  still  distant  Pacific. 
Rattling  rapidly  down  the  incline,  past  junctions  whence 
branch  lines  climb  to  mines  high  among  the  hills,  we 
came  at  last  to  Calama,  the  first  Chilean  village, 
where  rivulets  drawn  from  the  Loa  make  an  oasis  of 
bright  green  corn  and  alfalfa  and  support  a few  shrubs 
that  gladden  the  wilderness.  Evening  is  always  the 
pleasantest  time  in  the  tropics,  and  it  is  most  so  in  a 
desert,  when,  instead  of  the  hard  afternoon  glare,  gentle 
lights  begin  to  fall  upon  rocks  and  earth  and  make 
their  dryness  luminous.  It  was  our  fortune  to  have  at 


LA  PAZ  AND  THE  BOLIVIAN  DESERT  203 


this  best  hour  of  the  day  a distant  view  of  the  Andes, 
as  lovely  as  the  landscapes  through  which  we  had 
passed  were  awesome.  We  were  now  some  way  west  of 
the  chain,  and  could  see  it  running  in  a long  serrated 
line  from  San  Pedro  southward.  This  line  is  the  West- 
ern Cordillera,  which  from  here  all  the  way  to  the 
Straits  of  Magellan  is  the  main  Andean  axis,  rising 
over,  and  apparently  created  by,  the  great  telluric  fissure 
along  which  the  eruptive  forces  have  acted.  Nearest 
and  grandest  were  the  massive  cones  of  San  Pedro  and 
San  Pablo ; and  from  them  the  line  of  snows  could  in 
this  clear  and  lucent  air  be  traced  without  a break, 
peak  rising  beyond  peak,  till  ninety  miles  away  it  sank 
beneath  the  horizon. 

Seen  close  at  hand,  as  we  saw  Ollague  and  the  other 
volcanoes  that  rose  above  the  borax  lake,  these  moun- 
tains would  be  grim  and  terrible  as  those  were,  their 
slopes  a chaos  of  tumbled  rocks  and  brown  cinders  and 
long  slides  of  crumbling  ash,  telling  of  the  ruthless  forces 
of  Nature  that  had  been  at  work.  But  seen  afar  off  they 
were  perfect  in  their  beauty,  with  an  exquisite  variety  of 
graceful  forms,  their  precipices  purple,  and  their  snow 
crowns  rosy  in  the  level  light  of  sunset.  So  Time  seems 
to  soften  the  horrors  and  sorrows  of  the  Past  as  it  recedes, 
and  things  which  to  those  who  lived  among  them  were 
terrible  and  to  those  who  had  lived  through  them  were 
fit  only  to  be  forgotten,  become  romantic  to  men  of 
later  generations,  a theme  for  poets  or  painters,  and 
glories  for  orators  to  recall. 

Just  where  the  range  is  lost  to  sight  in  the  far  south 


204 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


it  forms  the  western  wall  of  the  great  Desert  of 
Atacama,  long  a name  of  terror  to  the  Spaniards. 
Not  often  in  these  countries  does  one  find  natural  ob- 
jects associated  with  events  important  enough  to  figure 
in  history.  But  it  was  in  the  dreary  and  waterless 
wastes  of  this  desert  that  Almagro,  first  the  friend  and 
partner,  then  the  rival  and  enemy,  and  at  last  the 
victim,  of  Pizarro,  lost  half  his  men  and  nearly  perished 
himself  in  his  march  into  Chile  from  Peru  through 
what  is  now  northern  Argentina.  The  enterprise  was 
one  amazing  even  in  that  age  of  adventure,  for  Almagro ’s 
force  was  small,  there  was  no  possibility  of  succour,  and 
he  went  into  a land  utterly  unknown,  a land  of  deserts 
and  mountains.  But  it  was  an  unlucky  enterprise. 
The  tribes  of  Chile  were  fiercer  than  those  of  Peru;  he 
had  gone  beyond  the  regions  of  civilization  and  of  gold, 
and  returned  an  empty-handed  conqueror. 


CHAPTER  VI 


CHILE 

Except  Egypt,  there  is  not  in  the  world  a country 
so  strangely  formed  as  Chile.  Egypt  is  seven  hundred 
miles  long  and  nowhere  save  in  the  Delta  more  than 
twelve  miles  wide.  Chile  is  nearly  three  thousand 
miles  in  length,  nowhere  more  than  one  hundred 
and  thirty  miles  wide  and  for  most  of  her  length 
much  narrower.  Even  Norway,  whose  shape  and 
sea-front  best  resemble  those  of  Chile,  has  but  fifteen 
hundred  miles  of  coast  and  has,  in  her  south  part, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  width.  Much  of 
the  Chilean  territory  is  a barren  desert;  much  that 
is  not  desert  is  in  fact  uninhabited.  Over  large  tracts 
the  population  is  extremely  thin.  Yet  Chile  is  the 
most  united  and  the  most  ardently  national  in  sen- 
timent among  all  the  Spanish-American  countries. 

Nor  is  Chile  any  more  singular  in  the  shape  of  her  terri- 
tory than  in  her  physical  conditions  also.  On  the  east 
she  is  bounded  all  the  way  down  to  Magellan’s  Straits 
by  the  Cordillera  of  the  Andes,  the  height  of  whose 
summits  averages  in  the  northern  regions  from  fourteen 
to  twenty  thousand  feet  and  in  the  southern  from  five 
to  nine  thousand,  some  few  peaks  exceeding  these  heights. 
Parallel  to  the  Cordillera,  and  geologically  much  older, 
there  runs  along  the  coast  a range  averaging  from  two 

205 


206 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


to  three  thousand  feet,  between  the  foot  of  which  and  the 
ocean  there  is  practically  no  level  ground.  The  space 
between  this  coast  range  and  the  Cordillera  is  a long 
depression  from  twenty  to  thirty  miles  wide,  some- 
times hilly,  sometimes  spreading  out  into  plains,  yet 
everywhere  so  narrow  that  both  the  Coast  I^ange 
on  the  one  side  and  the  spurs  of  the  Andes  on  the 
other  are  within  sight  of  the  inhabitants  who  live  be- 
tween them.  This  long  and  narrow  central  depres- 
sion is  Chile,  just  as  the  cultivable  land  on  each  side  the 
Nile  is  Egypt ; and  in  it  all  the  people  dwell,  except 
those  who  are  to  be  found  in  the  few  maritime  towns. 

It  may  seem  strange  that  a country  of  this  shape, 
three  thousand  miles  long,  and  with  only  three  million 
three  hundred  thousand  people,  should  be  conspicuously 
homogeneous,  united,  and  patriotic.  When  the  differ- 
ence between  territorial  Chile,  the  country  of  the  map, 
and  actual  Chile  dawns  upon  the  traveller,  his  surprise 
disappears.  There  are  in  the  republic  three  distinct  re- 
gions. The  northern,  from  latitude  18°  south  as  far  as 
Coquimbo  in  latitude  30°  south,  is  arid  desert ; some  of  it 
profitable  nitrate  desert,  most  of  it,  like  Atacama,  useless 
desert.  The  south,  from  Puerto  Montt  in  latitude  42° 
south  down  to  latitude  54°  south,  is  an  archipelago  of 
wooded  isles  with  a narrow  strip  of  wooded  mountain 
on  the  mainland  behind,  both  of  them  drenched  by  per- 
petual rains  and  inhabited  only  by  a few  wandering 
Indians,  with  here  and  there  a trading  post  of  white 
men.  It  is  the  central  part  alone  that  is  compactly 
peopled,  a narrow  tract  about  seven  hundred  miles 


CHILE 


207 


long,  most  of  it  mountainous,  but  the  valleys  generally 
fertile,  and  the  climate  excellent.  This  central  part  is 
the  real  Chile,  the  home  of  the  nation. 

To  central  Chile  I shall  return  presently.  Meantime 
a few  pages  may  be  given  to  the  northern  section,  which, 
though  a desert,  has  an  enormous  economic  value, 
and  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  chief  sources  of  natural  wealth 
in  the  two  American  continents.  It  is  the  region  which 
supplies  the  agriculturists  of  the  whole  world  with  their 
nitrates,  and  the  nitrates  are  here  because  the  country 
is  absolutely  rainless.  Rains  would  have  washed  the 
precious  mineral  out  of  the  soil  long  ago  and  swept  it 
down  into  the  Pacific. 

One  enters  the  nitrate  fields  in  two  or  three  hours  after 
leaving  the  Bolivian  plateau  and  passing  through  the 
Western  Cordillera  described  in  the  last  preceding  chap- 
ter. They  are  unmitigated  desert,  a region  of  low  stony 
hills,  dry  and  barren,  not  a shrub,  not  a blade  of  grass. 
Sources  of  fertility  to  other  countries,  they  remain 
themselves  forever  sterile.  All  the  water  is  brought 
down  in  pipes  from  the  upper  course  of  the  Loa,  the 
stream  which  rises  on  the  flanks  of  the  volcano  of  San 
Pedro  already  mentioned.  One  can  just  descry  in  the 
far  distance  its  snow-streaked  summit.  But  the  desert 
is  all  alive.  Everywhere  there  are  narrow-gauge  lines 
of  rails  running  hither  and  thither,  with  long  rows 
of  trucks  passing  down  them,  carrying  lumps  of  rock. 
Groups  of  men  are  at  work  with  pickaxes  breaking  the 
ground  or  loading  the  trucks.  Puffs  of  smoke  and  dust 
are  rising  from  places  where  the  rock  is  being  blasted 


208 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


with  dynamite.  Here  and  there  buildings  with  machim 
ery  and  tall  iron  pipes  shew  the  oficinas  where  the 
rock  is  ground  to  powder,  then  washed  and  boiled,  the 
liquid  mass  run  off  and  drained  and  dried  into  a whitish 
powder,  which  is  packed  into  sacks  and  sent  down 
to  the  coast  for  shipment.  The  mineral  occurs  in  a 
stratum  which  lies  about  a foot  below  the  surface,  and 
averages  three  feet  in  thickness.  It  is  brownish  grey 
in  colour  and  very  hard.  There  is  a considerable  by- 
product of  iodine,  which  is  separated  and  sent  off  for  sale. 
The  demand  for  it  is  said  to  be  less  than  the  supply. 

Each  oficina  — that  is  the  name  given  to  the  places 
for  the  reduction  and  preparation  of  the  mineral  — is 
the  centre  of  a larger  or  smaller  nitrate  estate,  and 
the  larger  and  more  modern  ones  are  equipped  with 
houses  for  the  managers  and  workpeople,  each  being 
a sort  of  village  where  the  company  supplies  every- 
thing to  the  workpeople,  who  are  mostly  Chilean  rotos, 
sturdy  peasants  of  half-Indian  blood.  In  South  America 
one  sees  plenty  of  isolated  mining  villages  in  deserts, 
but  here  a whole  wide  region  unable  to  support  human 
life  is  alive  with  an  industrious  population. 

The  air  being  dry  and  pure  (except  for  the  dust)  at 
this  considerable  elevation,  averaging  from  three  to  five 
thousand  feet,  the  climate  ought  to  be  healthy.  But 
it  is  impossible  to  imagine  a more  dismal  place  to  in- 
habit, and  those  parts  of  the  surface  from  which  the 
mineral  has  been  removed  are  at  once  forsaken. 

These  nitrate  fields  cover  a very  large  area  in  the 
northern  provinces  of  Chile,  but  some  districts  in 


CHILE 


209 


which  the  mineral  is  believed  to  exist  are  still  imper- 
fectly explored,  and  many  in  which  it  does  exist  shew 
a comparatively  poor  stratum,  so  that  it  is  not  possible 
to  estimate  how  much  remains  to  be  developed  and  the 
length  of  time  it  will  take,  at  the  present  rate  of  produc- 
tion, to  exhaust  that  amount.  We  were  told,  however, 
that,  so  far  as  can  be  conjectured,  the  fields  might  (at 
the  present  rate)  last  nearly  two  centuries,  before  the 
end  of  which  period  much  may  happen  in  the  field  of 
scientific  agriculture.  The  export  duty  or  royalty  which 
the  Chilean  government  levies  produces  a large  annual 
revenue,  and  is,  indeed,  the  mainstay  of  the  finance  of 
the  republic,  enabling  taxation  to  be  fixed  at  a low 
figure.1  There  are  those  who  say  that  this  is  no  un- 
mixed benefit,  because  it  reduces  the  motives  for  econom- 
ical administration.  The  guano  deposits  of  Peru  proved 
to  be  the  source  of  more  evil  than  good,  for  by  pour- 
ing into  her  treasury  sums  which  excited  the  cupidity 
of  military  adventurers,  they  made  revolutions  more 
frequent.  No  such  danger  need  be  feared  in  Chile ; 
yet  there  are  always  temptations  incident  to  the  posses- 
sion of  wealth  which  a man  or  a nation  has  not  earned 
by  effort.  As  the  nitrates  are  part  of  the  capital  of  the 
country  which  will  some  day  come  to  an  end,  it  would 
seem  prudent  to  expend  what  they  produce  upon  per- 
manent improvements  which  will  add  to  the  nation’s 
permanent  wealth,  such,  for  instance,  as  railroads  and 
harbours.  A good  deal  is,  in  fact,  being  spent  on  rail- 

1 In  the  thirty  years  from  1880  to  1909  the  Chilean  treasury  re- 
ceived £ 82,637,000  (about  $412,000,000)  in  export  duties  on  nitrates. 


210 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


road  construction,  and  a good  deal  on  the  creation  of  a 
naval  stronghold  and  docks  at  Talcahuano. 

Between  the  nitrate  fields  and  the  sea  there  lies  a strip 
of  wholly  unprofitable  desert,  traversed  by  that  range 
of  hills  which  rises  from  the  coast  all  the  way  along  the 
west  side  of  Chile  and  Peru.  Its  scenery  is  bold  and 
in  places  striking,  but  the  utter  bareness  and  bro^mness 
deprive  it  of  all  charm  except  that  which  the  morning 
and  evening  sunlight  gives,  bringing  out  delicate  tints 
on  distant  slopes.  Here  the  railway  line  forks,  sending 
one  branch  to  the  port  of  Antofagasta,  and  the  other  to 
the  smaller  town  but  better  sheltered  roadstead  of  Me- 
gillones.  We  went  to  the  latter.  Local  interests  of  a self- 
ish kind  have  here,  as  elsewhere  along  the  coast,  caused 
the  selection  of  Antofagasta  as  the  principal  terminus 
of  the  line ; and  though  it  is  now  admitted  that  Megil- 
lones  would  have  been  a fitter  spot,  so  much  capital 
has  been  sunk  in  buildings  at  the  former  that  it  is 
deemed  too  late  to  make  a change.  The  bay  of  Megil- 
lones,  guarded  by  a lofty  promontory  on  the  south, 
and  commanding  a view  of  ridge  after  ridge  of  moun- 
tains stretching  out  to  the  north,  has  a beautiful  sweep, 
and  is  enlivened  by  the  abundance  of  seals  and  sea-lions, 
who  wallow  and  bark  to  one  another  in  the  long,  slow 
rollers  of  the  Pacific.  The  beach  is  excellent  for  bath- 
ing, but  the  water  so  cold  that  only  in  the  hotter 
part  of  the  year  do  the  Englishmen,  who  manage  the 
railway  and  its  machine  works  and  who  retain  here  the 
national  love  of  salt  water,  find  it  suitable  for  any- 
thing more  than  a plunge  in  and  out  again.  Though 


CHILE 


211 


rain  is  extremely  rare,  one  may  conclude  from  the  gullies 
in  the  hills  down  which  torrents  seem  to  have  swept 
either  that  violent  storms  come  occasionally  or  that  the 
climate  has  altered  since  hills  and  valleys  took  their 
present  form. 

Antofagasta,  where  we  landed  on  the  southward  voy- 
age down  the  coast,  is  a much  busier  place  than  Megil- 
lones,  but  a less  attractive  one,  for  it  has  no  such  sweep 
of  sand  and  space  of  level  ground  behind,  being  crushed 
in  between  the  dreary,  dusty  hills  and  the  rocky  shore. 
Landing  in  the  surf  is  often  difficult  and  sometimes 
dangerous,  but  as  the  chief  port  of  the  southern  nitrate 
country  it  receives  a good  deal  of  shipping,  and  has  a 
pleasant  little  native  society,  besides  an  English  and  a 
German  colony. 

Nearly  five  hundred  miles  further  south  are  the 
towns  of  La  Serena  and  Coquimbo,  the  former  a quiet 
old  Spanish  city,  placed  back  from  the  coast  to  be  out 
of  the  way  of  the  English  and  Dutch  marauders,  who 
were  frequent  and  formidable  visitors  in  these  seas, 
after  Sir  Francis  Drake  had  led  the  way  in  his  famous 
voyage  in  1578,  when  he  sailed  up  and  down  the  coast 
plundering  towns  and  capturing  ships.  Coquimbo  is 
a newer  place,  with  a fairly  good  harbour,  and  thrives 
on  the  trade  which  the  mines  in  its  neighbourhood 
assure  to  it.  It  is  an  arid  land,  yet  here  there  begins 
to  be  some  rain,  and  here,  therefore,  we  felt  that  we 
were  bidding  farewell  to  the  desert,  which  we  had  first 
struck  at  Payta,  fifteen  hundred  miles  further  north. 
Nevertheless  there  was  little  green  upon  the  hills  until 


212 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


we  reached,  next  day,  a far  more  important  port,  the 
commercial  capital  not  only  of  Chile,  but  of  all  western 
South  America,  and  now  the  terminus  of  the  trans- 
continental railway  to  Buenos  Aires. 

This  is  Valparaiso,  where  the  wanderer  who  has  been 
musing  among  prehistoric  ruins  and  Bolivian  volcanoes 
finds  himself  again  in  the  busy  modem  world.'  The 
harbour  is  full  of  vessels  from  all  quarters,  — coasting 
steamers  that  ply  to  Callao  and  Panama,  sailing  ships  as 
well  as  steamers  from  San  Francisco  and  others  from  Aus- 
tralia, mostly  with  cargoes  of  coal,  besides  vessels  that 
have  come  from  Europe  round  Cape  Horn  or  through 
the  Straits  of  Magellan.  The  so-called  harbour  is  really 
an  open  roadstead,  for  there  is  no  shelter  to  the  north, 
and  when,  as  often  happens,  the  dreaded  gale  from  that 
quarter  breaks,  vessels  that  have  not  had  time  to  run 
out  under  steam  are  in  danger  of  drifting  ashore,  for 
the  water  deepens  so  quickly  from  the  land  that  they 
cannot  anchor  far  out.  Why  not  build  a breakwater  ? 
Because  the  water  is  so  deep  that  the  cost  of  a break- 
water long  enough  to  give  effective  protection  would  be 
enormous.  There  is  a more  sheltered  haven  some  miles 
to  the  north,  but  as  all  the  business  offices  and  ware- 
houses are  here,  not  to  speak  of  the  labouring  popula- 
tion and  their  houses,  the  idea  of  moving  the  city  and 
railway  terminus  has  not  been  seriously  considered. 

Seen  from  the  sea,  Valparaiso  is  picturesque,  and  has 
a marked  character  of  its  own,  though  the  dryness  of 
the  hills  and  the  clearness  of  the  light  make  it  faintly 
recall  one  of  those  Spanish  or  Italian  towns  which  glitter 


CHILE 


213 


on  the  steep  shores  of  the  Mediterranean.  It  resembles 
Messina  in  Sicily  in  being  very  long  and  very  narrow,  for 
here,  as  there,  the  heights,  rising  abruptly  from  the  shore, 
leave  little  space  for  houses,  and  the  lower  part  of  the 
town  has  less  than  a quarter  of  a mile  in  breadth.  On 
this  narrow  strip  are  all  the  places  of  business,  banks, 
shipping  offices,  and  shops,  as  well  as  the  dwellings  of 
most  of  the  poorer  class.  On  the  hills  above,  rising 
steeply  two  hundred  feet  or  more,  stands  the  upper  town, 
which  consists  chiefly  of  the  residences  of  the  richer 
people.  Their  villas,  interspersed  with  gardens,  have 
a pretty  effect  seen  from  below,  and  in  rambling  along 
the  lanes  that  run  up  to  heights  behind  one  gets  charm- 
ing views  over  the  long  line  of  coast  to  the  north. 
Communication  between  the  lower  and  upper  towns  is 
carried  on  chiefly  by  elevators  (lifts)  or  trolley  cars 
worked  on  the  cog-wheel  system. 

At  the  time  of  my  visit,  the  city  was  half  in  ruins,  re- 
building itself  after  a terrible  earthquake.  The  lower 
town  had  suffered  most,  for  here,  as  at  Messina  and  at 
San  Francisco,  buildings  erected  on  soft  alluvial  ground 
were  overthrown  more  frequently  and  completely  than 
those  that  stood  on  a rocky  foundation.  The  op- 
portunity was  being  taken  to  widen  and  straighten  the 
principal  thoroughfares,  and  to  open  up  some  of  the 
overcrowded  poorer  districts.  The  irregularities  of  the 
site  between  a sinuous  coastline  and  spurs  projecting 
from  the  hills  make  the  city  plan  less  uniform  and  rectan- 
gular than  in  most  Spanish- American  cities,  and  though 
nothing  is  old  and  there  is  little  architectural  variety, 


214 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


still  the  bright  colours  of  the  houses  washed  in  blue  or 
white,  the  glimpses  of  rocky  heights  seen  at  the  eastern 
end  of  all  the  cross  streets  and  of  the  sea  glittering  at 
the  western  give  a quality  of  its  own  to  the  lower  town, 
while  the  upper  town  has  its  steep  gardens  and  tree 
clumps  and  wide  prospects  over  the  bay  and  the  jut- 
ting capes  beyond. 

But  Valparaiso  is  perhaps  most  picturesque  when 
seen  from  a steamer  anchored  in  the  bay,  especially 
when  its  white  houses  and  hills,  green  for  a few  weeks  in 
spring,  meet  the  eyes  of  one  who  comes  from  the  bar- 
ren deserts  of  Bolivia  and  the  nitrate  region.  In  front 
are  the  ocean  steamers  and  the  tall  spars  of  Australian 
clippers ; nearer  shore  the  smaller  craft  are  tossing  on 
the  ocean  swell ; the  upper  town  is  seen  rising  on  its 
cliffs  behind  the  lower,  with  high  pastures  and  rocky 
hummocks  still  further  back.  Far  away  in  the  north- 
east the  snowy  mass  of  Aconcagua,  loftiest  of  all  Ameri- 
can summits,  floats  like  a white  cloud  on  the  horizon. 

A few  miles  north  of  Valparaiso  is  the  pretty  residential 
suburb  of  Vina  del  Mar,  beyond  which  the  rocks  come 
down  to  the  sea,  here  and  there  enclosing  stretches  of  sandy 
beach  on  which  the  great  green  rollers  break.  The  dark 
yellow  Californian  poppy  ( Eschscholtzio ) which  covers 
the  fields  in  such  masses  round  San  Francisco  is  equally 
common  here.  Woody  glens  come  down  from  the  hills ; 
and  in  the  bottom  of  one  of  these  the  principal  sporting 
club  has  laid  out  a race-course  and  polo  ground,  where 
we  saw  the  fashionable  world  gathered  for  these  diver- 
sions, just  as  popular  here  as  in  Europe.  (South  America 


CHILE 


215 


has  not  yet  given  any  game  of  its  own  to  the  world  as 
the  North  American  Indians  gave  La  Crosse  and  the 
East  Indies  polo.)  Everything  looked  very  pretty  in 
the  fresh  green  of  October,  but  everybody  shivered;  for 
though  the  summers  are  extremely  hot,  the  spring  was 
less  genial  than  one  expected  in  this  latitude.  Valparaiso 
has  winds  equally  chilling  whether  they  come  down 
from  the  snowy  Andes  on  the  east  or  up  from  the 
Antarctic  current  on  the  west.  It  is  a windy  place 
and  in  summer  a very  dusty  one,  but  in  comparison 
with  the  dismal  barrenness  of  Mollendo  and  Anto- 
fagasta it  deserves  its  name  of  Valley  of  Paradise. 

Despite  earthquakes  and  northern  gales,  Valparaiso 
continues  to  be  the  most  flourishing  seat  of  world  trade 
on  the  western  side  of  its  Continent,  the  only  South 
American  rival  of  San  Francisco,  Seattle,  and  Vancou- 
ver. It  is  also  the  centre  of  the  coast  trade  of  the 
Chileans,  the  only  Spanish-American  people  who  have 
shewn  taste  or  talent  for  seafaring.  We  felt  ourselves 
back  in  the  modern  world  when  we  saw  a Stock  Ex- 
change, having  since  we  left  New  York  passed  near 
no  city  possessing  that  familiar  appliance  of  civiliza- 
tion. Apart  from  stocks,  abundant  opportunities  are 
supplied  for  speculation  by  the  sudden  and  violent 
fluctuations  in  exchange  upon  Europe.  The  commer- 
cial houses  are  chiefly  English  and  German,  and  among 
the  Chilean  firms  there  are  some  that  bear  English  names. 
The  Europeans  of  former  days  soon  made  themselves  at 
home  here,  and  their  descendants  in  the  third  or  even 
the  second  generation  are  patriotic  Chileans.  Some  of 


216 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  heads  of  British  firms  told  me  that  the  young  men 
who  come  out  to  them  to-day  from  England,  are  not,  as 
a rule,  equal  either  to  those  of  thirty  years  ago  or  to  the 
young  Germans  who  are  sent  to  serve  German  houses. 
“They  care  less  for  their  work,”  — so  my  informants  de- 
clared,— and  “they  do  it  less  thoroughly ; their  interests 
at  school  in  England  have  lain  chiefly  in  playing,  or  in 
reading  about,  cricket  and  football,  not  in  any  pursuit 
needing  mental  exertion,  and  here  where  cricket  and 
football  are  not  to  be  had,  they  become  listless  and 
will  not,  like  the  young  Germans,  spend  their  evenings 
in  mastering  the  language  and  the  business  conditions 
of  the  country.”  What  truth  there  is  in  this  I had  no 
means  of  testing,  but  Valparaiso  is  not  the  only  foreign 
port  in  which  one  hears  such  things  said. 

Fifty  miles  inland,  as  the  crow  flies,  but  much 
farther  by  railway,  is  Santiago,  the  capital  of  Chile,  and 
in  population  the  fourth  city  in  South  America.1  Except 
Rio  de  Janeiro,  no  capital  in  the  world  has  a more 
striking  position.  Standing  in  the  great  central  valley 
of  Chile,  it  looks  out  on  one  side  over  a fertile  plain 
to  the  wooded  slopes  of  the  Coast  Range,  and  on  the 
other  looks  up  to  the  gigantic  chain  of  the  Cordillera, 
rising  nineteen  thousand  feet  above  it,  furrowed  by  deep 
glens  into  which  glaciers  pour  down,  with  snowy  wastes 
behind.  At  Santiago,  as  at  Innsbruck,  one  sees  the 
vista  of  a long,  straight  street  closed  by  towering 
mountains  that  crown  it  with  white  as  the  sea  crowns 
with  blue  the  streets  of  Venice.  But  here  the  moun- 

1 Buenos  Aires,  Rio,  and  SSo  Paulo  are  the  three  larger  cities. 


CHILE 


217 


tains  are  more  than  twice  as  high  as  those  of  the  Tyro- 
lean city  and  they  never  put  off  their  snowy  vesture. 
Wherever  one  walks  or  drives  through  the  city  in 
the  beautiful  public  park  and  on  the  large  open  grounds 
of  the  race-course,  these  fields  of  ice  are  always  be- 
fore the  eye,  whether  wreathed  with  cloud  or  glittering 
against  an  ardent  sky. 

The  interior  of  the  city  does  not  offer  very  much  to 
the  traveller.  There  is  one  long,  broad  and  handsome 
thoroughfare,  the  Alameda,  adorned  with  statues  and 
with  four  rows  of  trees,  as  well  as  several  plazas,  small 
compared  to  those  of  Lima  and  Arequipa,  but  very 
tastefully  planted.  There  is  a cathedral  of  the  familiar 
type,  spacious  and  well  proportioned,  with  the  usual 
two  west  towers  and  the  usual  silver  altar.  There 
are  handsome  government  offices,  and  a fine  building 
for  the  legislature.  The  streets  are  narrow,  the  houses 
seldom  high,  for  here  also  earthquakes  have  to  be  con- 
sidered. Everything  looks  new,  as  might  be  expected 
in  a place  which  was  small  and  poor  till  the  end  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  which  has  grown  rapidly 
within  the  last  sixty  years  with  the  prosperity  of  the 
country.  Prosperity  and  confidence  are  in  the  air. 
Great,  indeed,  is  the  contrast  between  old-fashioned 
Lima  and  still  more  ancient  Cuzco,  or  between  La  Paz, 
nestling  in  its  Barranca  under  the  mountains  like  an 
owl  in  the  desert,  and  this  brisk,  eager,  active,  modern 
city,  where  crowded  electric  cars  pass  along  crowded 
streets  and  men  hurry  to  their  business  or  their  politics 
even  as  they  do  in  western  Europe  or  North  America. 


218 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Santiago  is  a real  capital,  the  heart  of  a real  nation,  the 
place  in  which  all  the  political  energy  of  the  nation  is 
focussed,  commercial  energy  being  shared  with  Val- 
paraiso. Here  are  no  loitering  negroes,  nor  impassive 
Indians,  for  the  population  is  all  Chilean,  though  close 
inspection  discovers  a difference  between  the  purer  and 
the  less  pure  European  stock.  A great  deal  of  native 
blood  flows  in  the  veins  of  the  Chilean  roto. 

There  is  little  of  historical  or  archseological  interest 
in  Santiago,  no  skeleton  of  its  founder  (as  of  Pizarro 
in  Lima),  for  Pedro  de  Valdivia  was  taken  prisoner  and 
killed  by  the  Araucanian  Indians  hundreds  of  miles 
away ; no  palace  of  the  Inquisition,  for  Santiago  was 
in  the  seventeenth  century  too  small  a place  to  need  the 
elaborate  machinery  of  the  Holy  Office  for  the  protec- 
tion of  its  orthodoxy.  Till  the  War  of  Independence  it 
was  a remote  provincial  town.  But  Nature  has  given 
it  one  spot  to  which  historical  associations  can  attach. 
When  Valdivia,  one  of  the  ablest  and  boldest  of  the 
lieutenants  of  Pizarro,  was  sent  down  hither  to  complete 
the  conquest  of  that  southernmost  part  of  the  Inca 
dominion  from  which  Almagro  had  returned  disap- 
pointed in  the  quest  for  gold,  his  soldierly  eye  lit  upon 
and  marked  a steep  rock  that  rose  out  of  the  plain  on 
the  banks  of  a torrent  descending  from  the  Andes.  On 
this  rock  he  planted  (in  1541)  a rude  fort  and,  after  re- 
ceiving the  submission  of  the  neighbouring  Indians, 
marched  on  still  further  south,  into  regions  which  the 
Incas  had  never  conquered.  After  some  successes,  a 
sudden  rising  of  the  natives  chased  him  back  and  he 


CHILE 


219 


had  to  take  refuge  in  the  fort  upon  this  rock,  now  called 
Santa  Lucia.  Besieged  for  many  weeks  and  reduced  to 
the  utmost  extremity  of  famine,  he  held  out  here  with 
that  desperate  tenacity  of  which  the  men  of  Spain  have 
given  so  many  examples  from  the  days  of  Saguntum  to 
those  of  Cortes  at  Mexico  and  from  those  of  Cortes  to 
those  of  Palafox  at  Saragossa.  The  Indians  had,  how- 
ever, no  notion  of  how  to  conduct  siege  operations  and 
at  last  Valdivia  was  relieved.  The  fort  remained,  and 
beneath  it  there  grew  up  in  course  of  time  the  city. 

The  ancient  Acropolis  or  Hill  Fortress  is  a familiar 
sight  in  India,  in  Greece,  and  Italy,  and  in  western 
Europe  also.  Gwalior  and  Trichinopoly,  Acrocorinthus 
and  Taormina,  and  in  England,  Old  Sarum,  Durham, 
Exeter,  Shrewsbury,  London  itself,  are  instances,  and 
the  Fortress  has  often  as  in  the  last  four  cases,  been  the 
germ  of  a city.  But  so  far  as  I know  Santa  Lucia,  be- 
low which  Santiago  has  grown  up,  is  the  only  conspicu- 
ous instance  in  the  two  Americas  of  any  such  strong- 
hold built  by  Europeans.  The  hill,  a little  over  two 
hundred  feet  high,  is  much  lower  than  are  the  Castle 
Hills  of  Edinburgh  and  Stirling,  and  the  space  on  it 
smaller.  It  is  lower  even  than  the  Castle  Rock  of 
Dumbarton,  which  it  more  resembles.  Like  those  three, 
it  is  a mass  of  hard  igneous  rock,  so  irregular  in  form  as 
to  suggest  that  it  may  be  a detached  fragment  of  an  old 
lava  flow,  and  most  of  its  sides  are  so  precipitous  as  to 
be  easily  defensible.  The  buildings  which  had  defaced 
it  having  been  nearly  all  removed,  it  is  now  laid  out 
as  a pleasure  ground,  and  planted  with  trees.  Walks 


220 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


have  been  made  round  it,  with  a footpath  to  the  craggy 
summit,  and  there  is  a statue  of  Pedro  de  Valdivia,  the 
only  monument  to  any  one  of  the  Conquistadores  which 
I can  remember  to  have  seen  in  Spanish  America,  for  the 
men  of  that  famous  group  are  not  much  honoured  by 
their  colonial  descendants.  Every  evening  we  walked 
to  the  top  to  enjoy  the  wonderful  view  over  the  valley, 
and  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  reddening  the  Andean 
snows.  A still  more  extended  view  is  obtained  from  the 
summit,  surmounted  by  a colossal  statue  of  the  Virgin, 
of  the  hill  of  San  Cristobal,  whose  base  is  half  a mile 
from  the  town. 

Chile,  like  the  rest  of  South  America,  is  a country 
of  large  estates,  the  early  conquerors  having  received 
grants  of  land,  many  of  which  have  not  since  been 
broken  up  into  smaller  properties ; so  there  exists  a 
landed  aristocracy  something  like  that  of  England  in 
the  eighteenth  century,  with  peasants  cultivating  the 
soil  as  tenants  or  labourers,  while  the  small  middle  class 
consists  of  shopkeepers  or  skilled  artisans  in  the  towns. 
The  leading  landowners  spend  the  summers  in  their 
country  houses  and  the  winter  and  spring  in  Santiago, 
which  has  thus  a pleasant  society,  with  plenty  of  talent 
and  talk  among  the  men,  of  gaiety  and  talk  among  the 
women,  a society  more  enlightened  and  abreast  of  the 
modern  world  than  are  those  of  the  more  northern 
republics,  and  with  a more  stimulating  atmosphere. 
Santiago  has  always  been  the  centre  and  heart  of  Chile 
both  politically  and  socially  and  has  in  this  way  con- 
tributed to  give  unity  to  the  nation  and  to  create  a 


CHILE 


221 


Chilean  type  of  character.  The  jealousy  felt  by  the 
country  folk  against  the  capital  which  has  been  the 
source  of  so  much  strife  in  other  states  was  generally 
less  marked  here.  Santiago  leads ; Santiago’s  influence 
forbids  any  attempts  at  federalizing  the  republic. 
Though  learning  and  science  have  not  quite  kept  pace 
with  conquest  and  prosperity,  there  is  a thriving  univer- 
sity, and  a fine  museum,  placed  beside  the  zoological 
and  botanical  gardens.  The  last  and  the  present 
generation  have  produced  some  gifted  writers  and  among 
the  too  few  students  of  to-day  is  one  of  the  most  accom- 
plished historians  and  bibliographers  in  Spanish  America, 
Senor  Jose  Toribio  Medina.  The  bent  of  Chilean 
genius  has,  however,  been  on  the  whole  towards  war 
and  politics.  The  material  development  of  the  country 
by  railways,  the  opening  of  mines  and  the  extension  of 
agriculture,  important  as  these  are,  do  not  absorb  men’s 
thoughts  here  so  much  as  they  do  in  Argentina  and  in- 
deed in  most  new  countries.  Politics  hold  the  field  just 
as  politics  held  it  all  through  the  nineteenth  century  in 
England  and  in  Hungary,  perhaps  the  most  intensely 
political  countries  of  the  Old  World.1 

The  mention  of  these  two  countries  suggests  an- 
other point  of  resemblance.  The  Chileans,  a race  of 
riders,  are  extremely  fond  of  horse-racing.  The  races 
at  Santiago  rouse  immense  interest  and  are  the  occasion 
of  a great  deal  of  betting,  not  only  in  the  city,  but  also 
at  Valparaiso,  for  such  of  the  Valparaiso  sportsmen  as 
cannot  come  to  the  capital  gather  in  their  clubhouse 


1 It  is  sometimes  said  that  one  hundred  families  rule  Chile. 


222 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  carry  on  their  betting  during  the  progress  of  each 
race,  every  detail  of  which  is  reported  from  moment  to 
moment  by  telephone,  the  bets  coming  as  thick  and 
fast  as  if  the  horses  were  in  sight  upon  the  course. 

Chile  is  the  only  country  in  South  America  which  can 
boast  to  have  had  no  revolution  within  the  memory  of 
any  living  man.  In  1890  there  was  a civil  war,  but  that 
conflict  differed  materially  from  the  familiar  military 
revolutions  of  the  other  republics.  President  Balma- 
ceda  had  quarrelled  with  the  legislature,  claiming  that 
he  could  levy  taxes  without  its  consent,  and  was  over- 
come, after  a fierce  struggle,  the  navy  supporting  the 
Congress,  and  the  command  of  the  sea  proving  decisive 
in  a country  with  so  long  a coast  line.  So  scrupu- 
lously regardful  were  the  Chileans  of  their  financial 
credit,  that  both  Balmaceda  and  his  congressional 
antagonists,  each  claiming  to  be  the  lawful  government, 
tendered  to  the  foreign  bondholders  payment  of  the 
interest  on  the  same  public  debt  while  the  struggle  was 
going  on. 

There  were,  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  five  political  par- 
ties or  divisions  of  the  Liberal  party,  besides  the  Con- 
servatives. The  President  had  died  suddenly  while 
travelling  in  Europe,  and  the  Liberal  sections,  holding 
the  majority  in  Congress,  met  to  select  the  candidate 
whom  they  should  put  forward  as  his  successor.  The 
discussions  and  the  votings  in  their  gatherings  went  on 
for  several  weeks,  but  force  was  never  threatened ; and 
the  Chileans  told  their  visitors  with  justifiable  pride 
that  although  twelve  thousand  soldiers  were  in  or  near 


CHILE 


223 


the  capital,  no  party  feared  that  any  other  would 
endeavour  to  call  in  the  help  of  the  army.  Chile  is 
also  the  only  South  American  state  which  takes  so 
enlightened  an  interest  in  its  electoral  machinery  as  to 
have  devised  and  applied  a good  while  ago  a system  of 
proportional  representation  which  seems  to  give  satis- 
faction, and  certainly  deserves  the  study  of  scientific 
students  in  other  countries.  I saw  an  election  proceed- 
ing under  it  in  Santiago.  The  result  was  foreknown, 
because  there  had  been  an  arrangement  between  Liberal 
sections  which  ensured  the  victory  of  the  candidates 
they  had  agreed  upon,  so  there  was  little  excitement. 
Everything  seemed  to  work  smoothly. 

What  I had  seen  of  the  aspects  of  nature  round  San- 
tiago increased  the  desire  to  know  something  of  southern 
Chile,  a region  little  visited  by  travellers,  but  reported 
to  be  full  of  those  beauties  which  make  the  scenery  of 
temperate  regions  more  attractive,  at  least  to  persons 
born  in  the  temperate  zone,  than  all  the  grandeurs  of  the 
tropics.  Accordingly  we  set  off  for  the  south,  the  Chilean 
government  having  kindly  provided  special  facilities 
along  their  railways.1  All  the  lines,  except  that  which 
crosses  the  Andes  into  Argentina,  are  the  property  of  the 
state.  From  Santiago  to  the  strait  which  separates 
the  large  island  of  Chiloe  from  the  mainland,  a distance 
of  650  miles,  there  stretches  that  long  depression  men- 
tioned at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  the  northern 
part  of  which  contains  nearly  all  of  the  population  as 

1 A distinguished  Chilean  officer  whose  presence  added  greatlj' 
to  the  pleasure  of  the  trip  was  detailed  to  accompany  us. 


224 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


well  as  most  of  the  cultivable  area  of  the  republic.  The 
railway  that  traverses  it  from  end  to  end  is  the  main 
highway  of  the  country  sending  off  branches  which  run 
westward  to  the  towns  that  lie  on  or  near  the  coast,  and 
as  it  keeps  generally  in  the  middle  of  the  valley,  one 
gets  admirable  views  toward  the  Andes  on  one  side  and 
the  Coast  Range  on  the  other. 

Travelling  south,  one  observes  four  changes  in  physical 
conditions.  The  rainfall  steadily  increases.  At  Santiago 
it  is  only  about  fifteen  inches  in  the  year;  at  Valdivia, 
440  miles  to  the  south,  it  is  seven  times  as  great.  With 
this  abundant  rainfall,  the  streams  are  fuller,  the 
landscape  greener,  the  grass  richer,  the  trees  taller. 
The  mountains  sink  in  height,  and  not  the  Andes  only, 
but  the  average  height  of  the  Coast  Range  also.  The 
snow  line  also  sinks.  Near  Santiago  it  is  about  14,000 
feet  above  sea-level ; at  Valdivia  it  is  rather  under  6000. 
These  four  things  completely  alter  the  character  of  the 
scenery.  It  is  less  grand,  for  one  sees  no  such  mighty 
peaks  and  wide  snowfields  as  rise  over  Santiago,  but 
it  is  more  approachable,  with  a softer  air  and  more 
profuse  vegetation.  As  compared  with  the  desert 
regions  of  northern  Chile,  the  difference  is  as  great 
as  that  between  the  verdure  of  Ireland  and  the  sterility 
of  the  Sahara. 

From  Santiago  to  Osorno,  the  southern  limit  of  our 
journey,  there  was  beauty  everywhere,  beauty  in  the 
fields  and  meadows  which  the  railway  traverses,  beauty 
in  the  wild  quebradas  (narrow  glens)  that  descend  from 
the  Andes,  beauty  in  the  glimpses  of  the  snow  mountains 


CHILE 


225 


where  a break  in  the  nearer  hills  reveals  them.  But 
I must  be  content  to  speak  of  a few  points  only. 

The  long  depression  between  the  Andes  and  the  Coast 
Range,  which  forms  the  best  part  of  Chile,  is  crossed  by 
a series  of  large  and  rapid  rivers  descending  from  the 
Andean  snows  and  forcing  their  way  through  the  clefts 
in  the  Coast  Range  to  the  sea.  The  first  of  these  is  the 
Maule,  which  was  the  southernmost  limit  of  the  con- 
quests of  the  Inca  monarchs.  Next  to  it,  as  one  goes 
south,  is  the  still  larger  Biobio,  on  whose  banks  the 
Spaniards  strove  for  nearly  a century  with  the  fierce 
Araucanian  tribes,  till  at  last,  despairing  of  success,  they 
desisted  and  allowed  it  to  be  the  boundary  of  their  power. 
It  is  the  greatest  of  all  Chilean  streams,  with  a broad  and 
strong  current,  but  is  too  shallow  for  navigation,  and  the 
commercial  city  of  Concepcion,  which  lies  a little  above 
its  mouth,  uses  the  harbour  of  Talcahuano  as  its  port. 

Here,  one  is  already  in  a well-watered  land,  but  be- 
fore I describe  the  scenery  of  this  delightful  region 
something  may  be  said  of  the  coast  towns,  which  are 
quite  unlike  those  of  northern  Chile  and  Peru.  Con- 
cepcion, founded  by  Valdivia  to  bridle  the  Indians,  is  an 
attractive  little  city,  with  a large  plaza  and  wide  streets, 
which  are  tidy  and  well  kept.  Indeed,  as  compared  with 
those  of  Spain  and  Italy,  the  larger  cities  of  South 
America  are  as  superior  in  cleanliness  as  they  are  in- 
ferior in  architectural  interest.  Cuzco  stands  almost 
alone  in  its  offensiveness  to  sight  and  smell.  The  cheer- 
ful airiness  and  brightness  of  the  place  are  enhanced  by 
the  beauty  of  the  wide  river  on  -whose  north  side  it 

Q 


226 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


stands,  and  along  whose  shores,  backed  by  wooded  hills, 
there  are  many  pretty  villas  with  gardens,  most  of  them 
the  property  of  the  British  and  German  colonies  who 
live  here  in  social  good  will  and  active  business  compe- 
tition. The  former  have  laid  out  an  excellent  golf  course 
a few  miles  away  towards  the  Ocean  and  have  infected 
some  Chileans  with  their  passion  for  the  Scottish  game. 
Though  not  now  so  large  as  Valparaiso,  the  city  has 
played  a more  important  part  in  Chilean  history,  for  it 
was  the  military  capital  of  the  southern  frontier  on  the 
side  of  Araucania  and  the  centre  of  the  energetic  and 
fighting  population  of  that  region.  The  leading  families 
formed  the  only  aristocratic  group  that  was  capable  of 
resisting,  as,  after  independence  had  been  achieved, 
they  did  occasionally  resist,  the  larger  aristocratic  group 
of  Santiago.  There  was  not  enough  wealth  in  those 
days  to  build  stately  churches  or  mansions,  but  the 
place  has  a look  of  dignity  and  is  more  Chilean  and  less 
cosmopolitan  than  Valparaiso. 

Talcahuano,  possessing  the  finest  natural  harbour  in 
central  Chile,  has  been  made  the  principal  naval 
stronghold  of  this  country  which  sets  store  upon  the 
strength  of  its  navy,  deemed  essential  to  protect  its  im- 
mensely long  coast  line.  An  enemy  possessing  a more 
powerful  fleet  would,  it  is  thought,  have  Chile  at  its 
mercy  until  the  longitudinal  railway  is  completed  which 
is  to  run  the  whole  length  of  the  country  parallel  to 
the  coast.  A naval  harbour  has  been  formed  and 
docks  built  and  batteries  erected  to  command  the  ap- 
proaches. From  the  heights  one  sees  across  the  ample 


CHILE 


227 


bay  the  site  of  an  old  Spanish  town,  abandoned  be- 
cause exposed  to  the  English  and  Dutch  sea-rovers  of 
the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  Since  this 
time  no  hostile  European  vessels 1 have  appeared  in 
these  waters,  though  they  have  seen  plenty  of  sea-fights 
in  the  days  of  the  Revolution  and  in  those  of  the  great 
war  between  Chile  and  Peru,  and  again  in  the  civil 
war  between  Balmaceda  and  the  Congress. 

Two  other  places  on  the  Chilean  coast  are  worth 
mentioning.  From  Concepcion  a railroad,  crossing 
the  Biobio  by  a bridge  three-quarters  of  a mile  long, 
runs  southward  to  the  ports  of  Coronel  and  Lota. 
The  shore,  sometimes  rocky,  sometimes  bordered  by 
thickets  or  grassy  flats  behind  sand  beaches,  is  extremely 
picturesque ; and  were  it  in  the  populous  parts  of  Europe 
or  North  America,  it  would  be  lined  by  summer  cottages 
and  alive  with  children.  But  its  vegetation  and  gen- 
eral aspect  are  curiously  unlike  those  of  the  Atlantic 
coasts  of  either  of  those  two  continents,  and  remind 
one  rather  of  California.  At  Lota,  the  hills  rise  boldly 
from  the  sea  and  a large  island  lying  some  way  out 
gives  variety  to  the  ocean  view.  Here,  on  an  eminence 
behind  the  town,  is  a garden  of  singular  interest  and 
beauty  which  I had  especially  wished  to  see  because  it 
had  excited  the  admiration  of  my  friend,  the  late  Mr. 
John  Ball,  the  distinguished  botanist  and  traveller,  who 
has  described  it  in  his  Notes  of  a Naturalist  in  South 
America,  published  in  1887.  It  occupies  the  top  of  a 

1 Except  when  Spanish  ships  of  war  bombarded  Valparaiso  in 
1866. 


228 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


hill  which  breaks  down  almost  precipitously  to  the 
shore,  and  was  formed  by  a wealthy  Chilean,  the  owner 
of  a coal  mine  and  copper  smelting  works  close  by, 
who  built  a handsome  villa,  and  assisted  by  an  en- 
ergetic Irish  gardener,  laid  out  a park  with  admirable 
taste,  gathering  and  planting  a great  variety  of  trees 
and  shrubs  and  so  disposing  the  walks  as  to  give  de- 
lightful views  along  the  coast  and  out  into  the  ocean. 
There  are  few  things  in  the  course  of  journeys  which 
one  recalls  with  more  pleasure  than  parks  and  gardens 
which  combine  opportunities  for  studying  the  flora  of  a 
new  country  with  the  enjoyment  of  natural  beauty. 
This  place  had  the  peculiar  interest  of  showing  how, 
in  a mild  and  humid  climate,  trees  and  shrubs  from  sub- 
tropical regions  may  flourish  side  by  side  with  those  of 
the  temperate  zone.  Its  profuse  variety  of  trees,  many 
of  them  seen  by  us  for  the  first  time,  lives  in  my  recol- 
lection with  the  gardens  of  the  Scilly  Isles  and  those  on 
Valentia  Island  on  the  coast  of  Kerry,  and  the  famous 
park  at  Cintra  (near  Lisbon),  the  two  former  of  these 
possessing  similarly  favourable  climatic  conditions. 
The  landscape  at  Lota  is  more  beautiful  than  at  any  of 
those  spots,  and  though  it  is  marred  by  the  smoke  of 
the  smelting  works  placed  here  to  take  advantage  of  the 
coal  mine,  one  must  remember  that  without  the  coal 
mine  and  the  smelting  works  their  owner  would  not  have 
had  the  money  to  expend  on  the  park  and  gardens. 

About  two  hundred  miles  to  the  south  of  Concepcion 
a large  river  finds  its  way  to  the  sea  through  a compara- 
tively wide  and  open  valley  and  meets  the  tide  of  the 


CHILE 


229 


ocean  at  a point  where  Valdivia,  the  lieutenant  of 
Pizarro,  whom  I have  already  mentioned  as  the  first 
Spaniard  to  penetrate  into  these  wild  regions,  built  a 
small  fort  and  called  it  by  his  own  name.  His  fort 
was  thenceforth  the  chief  and  sometimes  the  only  seat 
of  Spanish  power  in  this  whole  stretch  of  country, 
constantly  besieged  and  reduced  to  dire  extremity  by 
the  warlike  Indians,  but  almost  always  saved  because 
it  was  accessible  by  sea  from  the  ports  of  Peru.  No 
trace  now  remains  of  the  ancient  stronghold,  nor,  indeed, 
are  there  any  old  houses,  for  in  this  well-wooded  part  of 
Chile  houses  are  built  of  timber  and  fires  are  propor- 
tionately numerous  and  destructive.  A terrible  one 
had  swept  away  half  the  town  in  1909.  They  were 
busy  rebuilding  and  improving  it,  for  the  country  all 
round  is  being  brought  into  cultivation,  and  trade  is 
brisk.  The  phenomena  remind  one  of  western  North 
America,  though  the  pace  at  which  population  grows  and 
natural  resources  are  developed  is  far  slower.  There  is  a 
German  colony,  of  course  with  a large  brewery,  the  chief 
manufacturing  industry  of  the  spot,  and  a somewhat 
smaller  British  mercantile  colony.  The  town  stretches 
along  both  banks  of  the  broad  stream,  on  which  fight 
steamers  ply  to  the  seaport  of  Corral,  some  twelve 
miles  below.  Here,  also,  the  resources  of  the  land  are 
being  exploited.  A French  company  has  erected  large 
works  for  the  smelting  of  copper,  which  is  brought  by 
sea  from  the  ports  of  northern  Chile.  All  the  most 
recent  metallurgical  appliances  have  been  introduced, 
and  a considerable  population  has  been  drawn  to  the 


230 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


place.  It  is,  however,  an  indigenous  population. 
That  inrush  of  immigrants  from  Europe,  which  is  the 
conspicuous  feature  in  North  America,  wherever  rail- 
ways or  other  large  works  are  being  executed,  or  new 
industries  set  up,  is  here  wanting.  It  has  not  yet  been 
worth  while  to  tempt  Italian  or  Slavonic  labour  from 
Europe.  Here  at  Corral,  one  touches  an  interesting 
bit  of  history.  There  are  on  both  sides  of  the  port 
ancient  forts  which  command  not  only  the  harbour 
and  the  passage  out  to  sea,  but  lovely  views  over  the 
smiling  land  and  wooded  mountains.  In  their  present 
form  they  seem  to  date  from  the  late  seventeenth 
or  early  eighteenth  century.  They  stand  now  as 
mouldering  and  grass-grown  monuments  of  a vanished 
empire.  Erected  to  protect  the  colonists  from  British 
and  Dutch  attacks,  they  succumbed  long  afterwards 
to  a later  British  adventurer  leading  those  colonists 
themselves  against  the  power  of  Spain.  Less  than  a 
century  ago  (in  1817)  they  saw  one  of  the  most  brilliant 
achievements  of  Lord  Cochrane,  then  fighting  for  the 
Chilean  revolutionaries,  when  with  the  crews  of  his 
few  ships  he  stormed  these  forts,  chasing  the  Spaniards 
away  to  Valdivia  and  received  next  day  the  surrender 
of  that  town,  their  last  stronghold  on  the  Chilean  main- 
land. The  services  of  this  Scotchman  are  gratefully 
remembered  here  along  with  those  of  two  men  of  Irish 
stock,  O’Higgins  and  Lynch.  All  three  have  won  a 
fame  not  unlike  that  of  Lafayette  and  Rochambeau  in 
the  United  States. 

In  these  seaports  we  saw  the  commercial  side  of 


CHILE 


231 


Chilean  town  life,  a side  in  which  the  foreigner  plays  a 
considerable  part,  whether  he  manages  metal  works  for 
European  capitalists  or  represents  some  great  English 
or  German  trading  firm.  Temuco,  situated  in  a purely 
agricultural  district,  supplying  its  wants  and  serving  as 
a market  for  its  produce,  is  of  a different  type  and  gave 
one  a notion  of  what  corresponds  in  Chile  to  the  smaller 
country  town  of  England  or  North  America.  It  is  a 
new  place,  for  this  region  was  almost  purely  Indian  till 
thirty  years  ago,  covers  a great  deal  of  ground,  and  re- 
minds one  more  of  an  Hungarian  or  Russian  town  than 
of  the  North  American  West,  for  the  wide  and  gener- 
ally unpaved  streets  were  not  planted  with  trees  and  the 
one  story  houses  were  mostly  thatched.  The  air  was 
soft  and  humid,  rich  green  meadows  stretched  out  on 
every  side  and  though  there  were  evident  signs  of  growth 
and  comfort,  nobody  was  in  a hurry.  The  country  is 
lovely.  To  the  west  are  picturesque  wooded  hills,  outliers 
of  the  Coast  Range,  and  on  the  east,  there  opens  a view 
of  the  Andes  twenty  or  thirty  miles  distant,  their  snow- 
peaks  rising  behind  a mass  of  dark  green  forest.  We 
were  entertained  to  dinner  by  the  officers  of  the  regiment 
quartered  here,  the  commandant,  who  was  also  gov- 
ernor of  the  district,  presiding,  and  met  a large  and 
agreeable  company  composed  of  the  officers  and  their 
wives,  a few  officials,  and  some  of  the  chief  business 
men.  Here,  as  everywhere  in  Chile,  educated  society 
is  more  modern  and  less  ecclesiastical  in  sentiment  than 
what  the  traveller  finds  in  the  more  northerly  republics. 
In  listening  to  the  graceful  and  well-phrased  speech 


232 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


in  which  the  commandant  toasted  the  guests,  we  had 
fresh  occasion  to  admire  the  resources  of  the  Castilian 
tongue,  which  like  the  Italian,  perhaps  even  more  than 
the  Italian,  seems  to  lend  itself  more  naturally  than 
English  or  German  to  oratory  of  an  ornamental  kind. 

While  in  Peru  and  Bolivia  the  great  mass  oL  the  ab- 
original population  remained  distinct  from  their  Spanish 
masters,  in  Chile  the  fusion  began  early  and  went 
steadily  on  until,  except  in  one  district,  the  two  races 
were  blended.  A certain  number  of  families,  includ- 
ing most  of  the  aristocracy,  have  remained  pure  white ; 
but  many  more  intermarried  with  the  natives,  and  the 
peasants  of  to-day  belong  to  this  mixed  race.  As  else- 
where in  Spanish  America,  the  man  of  mixed  blood 
deems  himself  white,  and  does  so  the  more  easily  here, 
because  over  most  of  the  country  there  are  no  longer 
any  pure  Indians.  The  aborigines  of  this  region  were 
less  advanced  in  the  arts  of  life  than  those  of  Peru,  but 
they  were  better  fighters  and  of  a bolder  spirit.  They 
have  made  a good  blend  with  the  whites ; the  Chilean 
roto  is  a hardy  and  vigorous  man.1 

The  one  district  in  which  a pure  Indian  race  has 
remained  is  that  in  which  Temuco  stands,  for  this  is 
the  land  of  those  Araucanian  Indians  to  whom  I have 
already  referred,  a race  deservedly  famous  as  the  only 
aboriginal  people  of  the  Western  hemisphere  that  suc- 


1 The  word  roto  seems  originally  to  have  been  a term  of  dispar- 
agement ; it  meant  ‘ a broken  man.’  Now  it  merely  denotes  one  of 
the  poorer  class,  and  is  opposed  to  pelucon,  one  of  the  upper  class 
(literally  a wig  wearer). 


CHILE 


233 


cessfully  resisted  the  European  intruders.1  I had  imag- 
ined this  people  dwelling  in  the  recesses  of  forest- 
covered  mountains,  and  themselves  tall  and  stalwart 
men  like  the  Patagonian  giants  whom  Magellan  en- 
countered on  the  other  side  of  the  Andes.  But  the 
Mapoche2 — that  is  the  name  by  which  the  Araucanians 
call  themselves  — are,  in  fact,  short  men,  though  sturdy 
and  muscular,  with  broad  faces,  not  unlike  some 
East  Asiatic  types.  Their  country  is  part  of  that  long 
and  wide  depression  which  constitutes  the  Central  Valley 
of  Chile,  a fertile  land  which,  though  doubtless  once 
more  thickly  wooded  than  it  now  is,  was  probably, 
even  in  the  days  of  Valdivia’s  invasion,  partly  open 
savannah.  There  is,  and  apparently  there  always  has 
been,  so  little  game  that  the  natives  must  have  lived 
chiefly  by  tillage,  for  they  had,  of  course,  neither  sheep 
nor  cattle.  Although  less  civilized  than  were  the  tribes 
dwelling  north  of  them,  who  had  received  some  of  the 
material  culture  of  the  Inca  empire,  they  had  risen 
above  the  savage  state,  and  were  at  least  as  far  ad- 
vanced as  were  the  Algonquins  or  Dakotas  of  North 
America.  They  had  organized  a sort  of  fighting  con- 
federacy of  four  tribes,  resembling  the  “Long  House” 
of  the  Iroquois  Five  Nations.  Each  tribe  had  its  lead- 
ing family  in  -which  the  chieftainship  was  hereditary, 
but  if  the  eldest  son  were  not  equal  to  the  place,  a sec- 

1 The  Yaquis  of  Sonora  in  Northwestern  Mexico  have  never  been 
subdued,  but  they  are  a small  tribe  dwelling  in  mountain  fastnesses 
difficult  of  access. 

2 This  is  the  form  of  the  name  that  was  given  to  me  at  Temuco. 
Others  call  them  Moluche  or  Maluche. 


234 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ond  or  other  son  might  be  selected  by  the  tribe  in  his 
stead.  For  war,  they  chose  leaders  of  special  bravery  or 
talent,  as  Tacitus  tells  us  that  the  Germans  of  his  time 
did.  Their  weapons  were  the  lance,  probably  a sort  of 
assegai,  and  the  axe  or  tomahawk  of  stone,  and  a club  of 
wood,  sometimes  with  a stone  head  fastened  to  it..  When 
Valdivia,  having  overcome  the  more  northerly  tribes, 
and  having  strengthened  his  force  by  contingents  from 
them,  crossed  the  Biobio  into  the  Araucanian  country, 
the  chiefs  of  the  confederacy  summoned  a general 
assembly  of  all  the  fighting  men  — a sort  of  Homeric 
agora  — and  after  three  days’  debate,  resolved  on  re- 
sistance. In  the  first  encounters  they  suffered  terribly 
from  the  firearms  and  the  horses  of  the  Spaniards. 
Valdivia  defeated  them  and  marched  through  their 
country  as  far  as  the  place  where  he  built  (as  already 
mentioned)  the  town  which  still  bears  his  name.  After 
a few  years,  he  returned  with  a stronger  force  hoping  to 
complete  his  conquest.  A hundred  miles  south  of  the 
Biobio  the  Araucanians  attacked  him.  Their  furious 
charge  could  not  be  stopped  by  musketry  — gunshot 
range  was  very  short  in  those  days  — the  invading 
force  was  destroyed,  and  Valdivia,  flying  from  the  field, 
was  captured.  While  he  was  attempting  to  save  his 
life  by  a promise  to  withdraw  altogether  from  Chile,  an 
old  chief  smote  him  down  with  a club. 

From  this  time  on  the  warfare  lasted  with  occasional 
intermissions  for  more  than  sixty  years.  The  Arau- 
canians discovered  by  degrees  tactics  fitted  to  re- 
duce the  advantages  which  firearms  gave  to  the  Span- 


CHILE 


235 


iards.  They  obtained  horses,  and,  like  the  Comanches 
in  Arizona  and  the  Basutos  of  South  Africa,  learnt  to 
use  them  in  war.  They  produced  leaders  like  Lautaro 
and  Caupolican  of  talents  equal  to  their  bravery. 
When  they  found  themselves  unable  to  stem  a Spanish 
invasion  they  retired  into  their  woods,  and  as  soon  as 
the  enemy  had  retired,  they  fell  upon  the  forts  and 
raided  across  the  border.  Weary  of  this  incessant 
and  apparently  hopeless  strife,  the  Spaniards  at  last 
agreed  to  a treaty  by  which  the  Biobio  was  fixed  as  the 
boundary.  During  his  daring  cruise  in  the  Pacific  in 
1578  Sir  Francis  Drake  had  occasion  to  land  on  the 
Chilean  coast.  The  Araucanians,  seeing  white  men 
come  in  a ship,  assumed  them  to  be  Spaniards,  and  at- 
tacked them.  Had  they  realized  that  Drake’s  crew, 
being  the  enemies  of  their  own  enemies,  would  gladly 
have  been  their  friends,  an  alliance  profitable  to  both 
parties  could  have  been  struck,  and  it  might  have  been 
serviceable  to  Drake’s  English  and  Dutch  successors. 
Fearing  such  a contingency,  the  Spaniards  made  it  a 
part  of  their  treaty  with  the  Araucanians  that  they  should 
give  no  help  to  the  maritime  foes  of  Spain.  Fresh  wars 
from  time  to  time  broke  out,  but  they  always  ended  in 
the  same  way,  so  Araucania  continued  independent 
down  till,  and  long  after,  the  revolt  of  Chile  from  Spain. 

By  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  nation  had 
begun  to  lose  its  old  fighting  habits.  Diseases  contracted 
from  the  whites  had  reduced  its  numbers  and  sapped 
its  strength,  while  peaceful  intercourse  with  the  col- 
onists had  mitigated  the  ancient  animosity.  Accord- 


236 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ingly,  when  Chile,  about  1881,  asserted  her  authority, 
and  the  town  of  Temuco  was  founded  in  the  middle  of 
the  Araucanian  country,  the  idea  of  resistance  which 
some  of  the  chiefs  entertained  was  dropped  on  the  ad- 
vice of  others  who  saw  that  it  would  be  hopeless  un- 
der conditions  so  different  from  those  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  Thus  it  may  still  be  said  of  this  gallant  race 
that  though  they  have  consented  to  become  Chileans, 
they  remain  the  one  unconquered  native  people  of  the 
continent.  Though  there  has  not  been  much  intermar- 
riage between  them  and  the  Spanish  colonists,  the  long 
conflict  had  a marked  effect  upon  the  character  of 
the  latter,  giving  to  the  Chileans  a rude  force  and 
aptitude  for  war  not  unlike  that  which  the  constant 
strife  with  the  Moors  gave  to  the  Spaniards  in  the 
Middle  Ages.  The  earlier  part  of  the  conflict  had  the 
rare  honour  of  being  made  the  theme  of  an  epic  poem 
which  ranks  high  among  those  of  modern  Europe,  the 
Araucana 1 of  Alonzo  de  Ercilla,  who  himself  fought 
against  Caupolican.  No  ill  feeling  seems  to  exist  now 
between  the  Mapoche  and  the  Chileans.  Educated 
men  among  the  latter  feel  a certain  pride,  as  do  the 
Araucanians  themselves,  in  their  romantic  history,  each 
race  remembering  that  its  ancestors  fought  well. 

How  large  the  Mapoche  nation  was  when  the  Span- 
iards first  came  is  quite  uncertain.  The  estimate  of 
400,000  seems  excessive  for  a people  who  had  no  cattle, 
and  did  not  till  the  soil  on  a large  scale.  Even  now 

1 First  part  written  in  Chile,  where  he  was  fighting,  in  1558,  and 
published  in  1569. 


CHILE 


237 


while  some  put  the  present  population  as  high  as  140,- 
000,  others  put  it  as  low  as  50,000.  There  is,  unfortu- 
nately, no  doubt  that  they  are  diminishing  through 
diseases,  especially  tubercular  diseases,  which  have 
spread  among  them  from  the  whites,  and  are  now  trans- 
mitted from  parents  to  offspring.  Laws  have  been 
passed  for  their  benefit,  and  a functionary  entitled  the 
Protector  of  the  Indians  appointed,  but  some  of  these 
laws,  such  as  those  restricting  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
liquors,  are  enforced  quite  as  imperfectly  as  they  are  in 
other  countries  better  known  to  us.  The  tribal  system 
has  almost  vanished,  but  the  local  communities  into 
which  the  people  are  now  grouped  respect  the  heads  of 
the  old  families  and  often  regret  the  days  when  a simple 
and  speedy  justice  was  administered  by  the  chieftains. 

Scattered  over  a wide  area  they  dwell  in  villages  of 
grass  huts  or  frame  houses,  the  latter  far  less  favourable 
to  health,  and  live  by  tillage  or  stock  keeping,  though 
a few  go  north  to  seek  work  and  are  deemed  excellent 
labourers.  The  custom  observed  by  the  Kafir  chiefs 
in  South  Africa,  of  allotting  a separate  hut  to  each 
wife,  does  not  seem  to  hold  here,  but  as  the  huts  are 
large,  each  wife,  if  there  are  several,  is  allowed  her  own 
hearth  and  fire.  Some  families  have  considerable  es- 
tates ; some  own  large  herds  of  cattle  and  sheep  which 
at  certain  seasons  are  driven  across  the  Andean  passes 
to  the  pastures  of  Argentina. 

While  the  wars  lasted  there  was,  of  course,  no  ques- 
tion of  converting  the  Araucanians  to  Christianity ; and 
though  in  the  intervals  of  peace  friars  sometimes  went 


238 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


among  them,  they  remained  practically  heathen  till  the 
establishment  of  Chilean  authority  in  1882.  Their  re- 
ligion is  a form  of  that  spirit  worship  which  one  finds 
among  nearly  all  primitive  peoples.  Its  rites  are  intended 
to  avert  the  displeasure  of  the  spirits,  to  obtain  from 
them  fine  weather  or  rain  (as  the  case  may  be),  and  to  ex- 
pel a noxious  demon  from  the  body.  The  priesthood  — 
if  the  name  can  be  used  — is  not  hereditary  and  is  con- 
fined to  females.  The  women  who  discharge  the  func- 
tions of  wizards  or  medicine  men  are  selected  when 
young  by  the  elder  sorceresses  and  initiated  with 
elaborate  rites.  A tree  of  a particularly  sacred  kind 
is  chosen  and  a sort  of  ladder  of  steps  cut  in  it,  which 
the  sorceress  mounts  to  perform  the  ceremonies. 
When  the  tree  dies,  its  trunk  continues  to  be  revered 
and  is  dressed  up  with  fresh  green  boughs  for  ceremo- 
nial occasions.  I could  not  find  that  any  other  natural 
objects,  besides  trees,  receive  veneration,  nor  is  there 
anything  to  shew  that  the  Inca  worship  of  the  sun  and 
the  host  of  heaven  had  ever  spread  so  far  to  the  south. 
The  old  beliefs  and  usages  are  now  fast  waning.  Many 
Mapoche  have  become  Christians,  a considerable  number 
Protestants,  converted  by  the  English  South  American 
mission,  others  Roman  Catholics.  They  are  described 
as  a people  of  good  intelligence,  and  easy  to  deal  with 
when  they  are  treated  with  justice,  a valuable  element  in 
the  population,  and  one  which  Chilean  statesmen  may 
well  seek  to  preserve,  if  drink  could  be  kept  from  them 
and  the  germs  of  hereditary  disease  rooted  out. 

The  occupation  by  the  Araucanians  of  a considerable 
part  of  the  central  Chilean  valley  accounts  for  the  fact 


CHILE 


239 


that  the  population  of  the  region  bej^ond  them  to  the 
south  has  grown  but  slowly.  It  now  contains  no  Indian 
tribes  till  one  gets  across  the  channel  of  Ancud  to  Chiloe 
and  the  other  islands  along  the  coast.  Few  settlers 
came  to  these  parts  from  Europe  until  about  the  mid- 
dle of  last  century  the  Chilean  government  encouraged 
an  immigration  from  Germany  which  continued,  on  a 
moderate  scale,  for  a good  many  years,  but  thereafter 
stopped  altogether.  Going  southward  from  Valdivia 
one  finds  both  in  small  towns  and  in  rural  districts 
round  them  a good  many  solid  German  farmers  and 
artizans  and  tidy  little  German  Fraus  who  might 
have  come  straight  out  of  the  Odenwald.  We  spent  a 
night  in  Osorno,  our  furthest  point  toward  the  south, 
a neat  and  prosperous  looking  town,  and  dined  with 
one  of  the  leading  German  citizens,  a man  of  wide  read- 
ing, and  especially  devoted  to  Robert  Burns,  whose 
poems  he  recited  to  us,  and  to  Thomas  Moore,  some  of 
whose  songs  he  had  translated  into  German.  There- 
after a group  of  the  German  residents  hospitably  took 
us  to  their  club,  where  they  have  a concert  hall  and 
just  such  a Kegelbahn  (skittle  alley)  as  that  in  which  I 
remember  that  we  students  used  to  play  at  Heidelberg 
in  1863,  about  the  time  when  the  parents  of  these  worthy 
Germans  were  migrating  to  Chile.  They  gave  us  cham- 
pagne, the  unfailing  accompaniment  of  every  social 
function  in  South  America ; but  it  ought  to  have  been 
Bavarian  beer.  This  is  the  only  part  of  western  South 
America  to  which  any  considerable  mass  of  settlers  have 
come  from  Europe,  for  most  of  the  English,  Germans, 
French,  and  Spaniards  one  meets  in  the  commercial  and 


240 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mining  centres  are  passing  business  visitors.  On  the 
other  side  of  the  Andes  it  is  different,  for  there  the  Italian 
immigration  has  been  and  still  is  very  large. 

Comparatively  few  immigrants  enter  Chile  now, 
which  would  imply  that  the  quantity  of  land  available 
for  agriculture,  but  not  yet  taken  up,  is  supposed  to  be 
not  very  large.  To  me  the  country  we  traversed  ap- 
peared to  be  far  from  fully  occupied,  though  on  such  a 
matter  the  impressions  of  a passing  traveller  are  of  little 
value.  Of  all  the  parts  of  the  New  World  I have  seen 
there  is  none  which  struck  me  as  fitter  to  attract  a 
young  man  who  loves  country  life,  is  not  in  a hurry  to 
be  rich,  and  can  make  himself  at  home  in  a land  where 
English  is  not  the  language  of  the  people.  The  soil  of 
southern  Chile  is  extremely  fertile,  fit  both  for  stock- 
raising  and  for  tillage.  The  climate  is  healthy  and 
mild,  without  extremes  either  of  heat  or  cold.  Wet  it 
certainly  is,  but  not  wetter  than  parts  of  our  own 
western  coasts. 

The  summer  sun  is  strong  yet  not  oppressive,  the  air 
both  soft  and  invigorating,  for  Ocean  sends  up  shrill 
blowing  western  breezes  to  refresh  mankind.1  There 
are  no  noxious  beasts,  no  mosquitoes,  no  poisonous 
snakes,  nor  other  venomous  creatures,  except  a spider 
found  in  the  cornfields  whose  bite,  though  disagreeable, 
is  not  dangerous.  Intermittent  fevers,  the  curse  of 
most  countries  where  new  land  is  being  brought  under 


^’AXX’  del  Ze<pupoTo  \iyvTrveiovra.s  dijras 
‘ftKcavbs  avlyaiv  ava^ixa-v  avBpwirovs. 


— Odyss.  IV. 


CHILE 


241 


cultivation,  seem  to  be  unknown.  There  are  deer  in 
the  woods,  and  plenty  of  fish  in  the  clear,  rapid  rivers. 
The  Englishman  who  loves  hunting  will  not  want  for 
foxes ; the  North  American  golfer  will  find  grassy  flats 
by  the  sea,  waiting  to  be  laid  out  as  links.  Remote, 
secluded,  and  tranquil  as  the  country  is,  the  settler 
should  have  little  difficulty  in  procuring  whatever 
Europe  supplies,  for  even  at  Osorno  he  is  only  forty 
hours  from  Santiago,  and  Santiago  is  now  only  two 
days  from  Buenos  Aires,  and  Buenos  Aires  only  seven- 
teen days  from  Europe. 

Perhaps  it  is  the  charm  of  the  Chilean  scenery  that 
prompts  a view  of  the  country,  considered  as  a home  for 
the  emigrant,  more  favourable  than  might  be  taken  by 
one  to  whom  life  would  be  just  as  enjoyable  in  the 
boundless  levels  of  Manitoba  as  within  view  of  a snowy 
range.  Perhaps,  also,  this  charm  of  southern  Chile 
with  its  soft,  green  pastures  and  shaggy  woods  and 
flashing  streams  was  enhanced  to  us  by  contrast  with 
the  dreary  deserts  of  Peru  and  Bolivia,  through  which 
we  had  lately  passed.  Whoever  has  in  his  boyhood 
learnt  to  love  the  scenery  of  a temperate  country  never 
finds  full  satisfaction  in  that  of  the  tropics,  with  all 
their  glow  of  fight  and  all  their  exuberance  of  vegeta- 
tion. Such  lands  are  splendid  to  visit,  but  not  so  good 
to  live  in,  for  exertion  is  less  agreeable,  the  woods  are 
impenetrable,  and  the  mountains,  therefore,  less  accessi- 
ble, and  the  constant  heat  is  enervating,  not  to  add  that 
insects  are  everywhere,  and  in  many  places  one  has  to 
stand  always  on  guard  against  fevers.  Nothing  could 


R 


242 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


be  grander  than  the  landscapes  in  the  Andes  which  we 
had  seen,  nor  more  beautiful  than  the  landscapes  in 
Brazil  which  we  were  shortly  to  see.  But  of  all  the 
parts  of  South  America  that  we  visited,  southern  Chile 
stands  out  to  me  as  the  land  where  one  would  choose  to 
make  a home.  ✓ 

Two  excursions,  one  to  the  sea,  the  other  into  the 
hills,  gave  us  samples  of  two  different  kinds  of  scenery. 
Of  the  many  brimming  rivers  that  sweep  down  from 
the  Andes  across  the  Central  Valley  none  is  more  beau- 
tiful in  its  lower  course  than  is  the  Rio  Bueno.  It  has 
in  the  course  of  ages  cloven  for  itself  through  the  hard 
rocks  of  the  Coast  Range  a channel  so  deep  that  the  tide 
comes  up  to  the  little  town  of  Trumajo  forty  miles  from 
the  sea,  and  from  that  town  small  steamers  can  pass 
all  the  way  to  the  bar  at  its  mouth.  In  one  of  these 
little  craft  which  a kind  friend  had  procured  we  spent 
a long  day  in  sailing  down  and  back  again.  The  hills 
on  each  side,  sometimes  hanging  steeply  over  the 
stream,  sometimes  receding  where  a narrow  glen 
opened,  were  clothed  with  the  richest  wood.  It  was 
a brilliant  day  in  October,  answering  to  our  April, 
and  the  sun  brought  out  an  infinite  variety  of  shades 
of  green  in  the  young  foliage  in  these  glens,  the  trees 
all  new  to  us,  and  the  spaces  between  them  filled  with 
climbing  plants  hanging  in  festoons  from  the  boughs. 
Wild  ducks  and  other  water-birds  fluttered  over  the 
water  and  rose  in  flocks  as  the  little  vessel  moved  on- 
ward, and  green  paroquets  called  from  the  thickets. 
As  it  nears  the  sea,  the  river  spreads  into  a wide  deep 


CHILE 


243 


pool  under  a crescent  of  bold  cliffs,  and  at  the  end  of 
this  is  seen  the  bar,  a stretch  of  sand  on  which  the  huge 
rollers  of  the  Pacific  break  in  foam.  There  is  a light- 
house and  a few  houses  near  a flat  stretch  of  meadow 
by  the  banks,  the  grass  as  green  and  the  flowers  as  abun- 
dant as  in  Ireland.  Specially  vivid  were  the  yellow 
masses  of  gorse,  apparently  the  same  species  as  our 
own,  and,  if  possible,  even  more  profuse  in  its  blossoms 
than  on  those  Cornish  shores  of  which  it  is  the  chief  orna- 
ment. I have  seen  few  bits  of  coast  more  picturesque 
than  this  meeting  of  the  still,  dark  river  and  the  flashing 
spray  of  ocean  under  rocks  clothed  with  feathery  woods. 

On  our  way  back  something  went  wrong  with  the 
machinery  and  the  vessel  had  more  than  once  to  moor 
herself  to  the  bank  till  things  were  set  right.  This 
gave  opportunities  for  going  ashore  and  exploring  the 
banks.  In  some  places  the  forest  was  too  dense  to 
penetrate  without  a machete  to  hew  a way  through 
the  shrubs  and  climbers.  In  other  places  where  one 
could  creep  under  the  trees  or  pull  one’s  self  up  the  cliffs 
by  the  boughs,  the  effort  was  rewarded  by  finding  an 
endless  variety  of  new  flowers  and  ferns.  The  latter 
are  in  this  damp  atmosphere  especially  luxuriant ; and 
their  tall  fronds,  dipping  into  the  river,  were  often  seven 
or  eight  feet  long.  It  was  a primeval  forest,  wild  as  it 
had  been  from  the  beginning  of  things,  for  only  in  two 
or  three  places  had  dwellings  been  planted  on  level 
spots  by  the  river  and  little  clearings  made;  and  the 
hills  are  so  high  and  rocky  that  it  may  remain  un- 
touched and  lonely  for  many  a year  to  come. 


244 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  other  excursion  was  towards  the  Andes.  There 
is  along  the  railway  no  prettier  spot  than  Collilelfu, 
where  a rapid  river,  broad  and  bright  like  the  Scottish 
Tay,  but  with  clearer  and  greener  water,  sweeps  down 
out  of  the  foothills  into  the  meadows  of  the  Central 
Valley.  Here  a French  company  have  constructed 
a little  branch  railway,  partly  to  bring  down  timber, 
partly  in  the  hope  of  continuing  their  line  far  up  the 
valley  and  across  a pass  into  Argentina,  in  order  to  carry 
cattle  to  and  fro.  The  manager,  a courteous  French- 
man from  the  Basque  land  of  Bearn,  ran  us  up  this  line 
through  a succession  of  lovely  views  along  the  river 
to  a point  where  we  got  horses  and  rode  for  seven  or 
eight  miles  further  through  the  forest  up  and  down 
low  ridges  to  the  shore  of  Lake  Rinihue.  The  forest  was 
in  parts  too  thick  to  penetrate  without  cutting  one’s  way 
through  creeping  and  climbing  plants,  but  in  others 
it  was  open  enough  to  give  mysterious  vistas  between 
the  tall  stems,  and  delicious  effects  where  the  sunlight 
fell  upon  a glade.  The  trees  were  largely  evergreen,  but 
few  or  none  of  them  coniferous,  for  in  Chile  it  is  only  at 
higher  levels  that  the  characteristic  conifers,  such  as  the 
well-known  Araucaria,  flourish.  Here  at  last  we  found 
that  characteristic  South  American  arboreal  flora  we  had 
been  looking  forward  to,  a forest  where  all  that  we  saw 
was  new,  unlike  the  woods  of  western  North  America 
and  of  Europe,  not  only  because  the  variety  of  the  trees 
was  far  greater  than  it  is  there,  but  also  because  so 
many  bore  brilliant  flowers  upon  their  higher  boughs, 
where  the  sunlight  reached  them.  We  were  told  that 


CHILE 


245 


in  midsummer  the  flowers  would  be  still  more  profuse, 
but  those  we  saw  were  abundant  and  beautiful  enough, 
some  white,  some  crimson  or  scarlet,  some  yellow,  very 
few  blue.  One  climber  lit  up  the  shade  with  its  red 
blossoms,  and  below  there  were  long  rows,  standing  up 
along  the  path,  wherever  it  was  fairly  open  to  the  light, 
of  white  and  pink  foxgloves,  a species  closely  resembling 
our  own,  while  a woody  ragwort,  eight  to  ten  feet  high, 
bore  a spreading  umbel  of  yellow.  The  Calceolarias , 
frequent  in  Peru,  do  not  seem  to  come  so  far  south  as 
this.  Most  of  the  trees  had  small  leaves,  but  two,  one 
called  the  league,  valued  for  its  bark,  and  another  re- 
sembling a laurel,  had  large,  dark  green,  glossy  foliage. 
It  was  a silent  wood,  except  for  the  paroquets  and  the 
occasional  coo  of  a wood-pigeon;  nor  did  we  see  any 
four-footed  creatures,  except  two  large,  reddish  brown 
foxes  scurrying  across  the  path  ahead  of  us.  Wildcats 
are  scarce,  and  the  puma,  the  beast  of  prey  that  has  the 
widest  range  over  the  Western  Hemisphere,  is  here 
hardly  ever  seen.  The  woodscape  was  less  grand  and 
solemn  than  what  one  sees  in  the  great  redwood  forests 
of  California  or  in  the  sombre  depths  of  those  that 
cover  the  Cascade  Range  in  Oregon  and  Washington, 
where  the  Douglas  fir  and  the  huge  “ cedar  ” 1 tower  so 
high  over  the  trails  that  one  can  scarce  catch  the  light 
through  their  topmost  branches.  Nor  can  I say  that 
the  views  were  more  beautiful  than  may  still  be  had  in 
the  few  remaining  ancient  forests  of  England  with  their 
ancestral  oaks  and  spreading  beeches.  But  there  was 

1 Thuja  gigantea. 


246 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


here  a peculiar  feature,  giving  a sense  of  the  exuberant 
vitality  of  nature,  in  the  profusion  of  parasitic  plants 
clothing'the  trunks  of  the  trees,  both  the  fallen  and  the 
living,  some  of  them  flowering  plants,  but  more  of 
them  ferns  and  mosses,  especially  tender  little  filmy 
ferns  such  as  one  finds  on  the  moist  and  shady 
rocks  of  western  Scotland  and  among  the  mountains 
of  Killarney. 

We  embarked  on  Lake  Rinihue  in  a tiny  steamboat, 
and  sailed  some  miles  over  its  exquisitely  clear,  green 
waters.  Steep  hills  from  two  to  three  thousand  feet 
high  enclose  it,  and  at  its  upper  end,  where  it  winds  in 
towards  the  central  range  of  the  Andes,  small  glaciers 
descend  from  between  high  snowpeaks.  The  view,  look- 
ing across  the  deep  green  of  the  forests,  broken  here 
and  there  by  a rocky  cliff,  up  to  these  glittering  pin- 
nacles, had  a beauty  not  only  of  color  and  form,  but  of 
mystery  also,  — that  indefinable  sense  of  mystery  which 
belongs  to  little-known  countries.  In  regions  like  Scot- 
land or  the  Alps  or  Norway  one  has  historical  associa- 
tions and  the  sense  of  a long  human  past  to  enhance 
the  lovelin*ss  of  hills  and  groves  and  streams.  Here 
one  has  the  compensating  charm  of  an  untouched  and 
almost  unexplored  nature.  The  traveller  in  southern 
Chile  feels  as  if  he  were  a discoverer,  so  little  visited  is 
this  land,  and  such  a promise  of  wild  beauty  waiting 
to  be  revealed  lies  in  the  recesses  of  these  mountains. 
Along  the  shores  of  Rinihue,  which  is  twelve  miles  long, 
there  is,  save  for  a house  or  two  at  the  place  where  we 
embarked,  no  trace  of  human  life.  Other  such  lakes, 


CHILE 


247 


many  of  them  much  larger,  lie  scattered  over  a space 
some  four  hundred  miles  long  and  fifty  miles  wide  on 
both  the  Argentine  and  the  Chilean  side  of  the  Cordil- 
lera, a land  of  forests  virtually  unexplored  and  uninhab- 
ited, except  by  a few  wandering  Indians,  standing  now 
as  it  has  stood  ever  since  the  Amdes  were  raised.  The 
day  will  come,  perhaps  less  than  a century  hence,  when 
the  townsfolk  of  a then  populous  Argentina,  weary  of 
the  flat  monotony  of  their  boundless  Pampas,  will  find 
in  this  wilderness  of  lake  and  river  and  mountain  such 
a place,  wherein  to  find  rest  and  recreation  in  the  sum- 
mer heats,  as  the  North  Americans  of  the  Eastern  states 
do  in  the  Appalachian  hills ; and  the  North  Americans 
of  the  West,  in  the  glorious  ranges  along  the  Pacific 
coast.  Superior  to  the  former  region  in  its  possession 
of  snow  mountains,  equal  to  the  latter  in  climate  and 
picturesque  beauty,  and  to  the  naturalist  more  inter- 
esting than  either  from  its  still  active  volcanoes  and  its 
remarkable  flora,  this  lake  land  of  the  southern  Andes 
is  an  addition,  the  value  of  which  the  South  Americans 
have  hardly  yet  realized,  to  the  scenic  wealth  of  our 
planet. 


CHAPTER  VII 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 

For  more  than  two  thousand  miles  the  republics 
of  Argentina  and  Chile  are  divided  from  one  another 
by  the  gigantic  barrier  of  the  Andes.  So  great  is  the 
continuous  elevation  of  the  range,  so  little  commercial 
intercourse  can  there  be  across  it,  so  few  are  the  points 
at  which  it  can  be  crossed  even  on  foot  by  any  travellers 
who  are  not  expert  mountaineers,  that  the  communica- 
tions between  those  dwelling  on  opposite  sides  of  the  moun- 
tains have  been  at  all  times  very  scanty.  The  contrast 
between  the  two  sides  is  marked.  For  eight  hundred 
miles  south  of  the  Equator,  the  eastern  slopes  of  the 
Andean  chain  have  abundance  of  rain,  while  the  central 
plateau  is  dry  and  the  western  declivity  is  a waterless 
desert.  But  in  the  region  which  lies  south  of  the  Tropic 
of  Capricorn,  outside  the  region  of  trade-winds,  the 
exact  reverse  holds.  In  this  southern  section  of  the 
Andes  it  is  the  eastern  side  that  is  dry  and  the  western 
side  that  is  wet,  because  westerly  winds  prevail  and 
bring  up  from  the  Pacific  rain  clouds  that  scatter  their 
moisture  on  the  heights  they  first  meet  and  have  none 
left  to  bestow  on  the  Argentine  side  of  the  Cordillera. 
This  great  dividing  range,  checking  intercourse  between 
the  peoples  on  its  two  flanks,  is  the  dominant  fact  in 
the  political  and  economic  life  as  well  as  in  the  physical 

248 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


249 


geography  of  the  southern  part  of  the  continent.  It 
has  given  these  two  neighbour  peoples,  Chileans  and 
Argentines,  different  habits,  different  characters,  and  a 
different  history. 

The  infrequency  of  communication  across  the  moun- 
tains was  increased  by  the  fact  that  most  of  the  country 
on  the  eastern  side,  being  sterile,  was  thinly  settled,  so 
that  there  were  few  people  who  had  any  occasion  to  cross 
the  mountains,  while  the  approach  to  the  passes  was 
difficult,  for  there  was  little  food  or  shelter  to  be  had 
along  this  track.  In  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury, however,  Mendoza,  Captain  General  of  Chile, 
founded  on  the  Argentine  side  the  town  which  still  bears 
his  name.  Placed  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains  on  the 
banks  of  a stream  descending  from  the  glaciers  of  Acon- 
cagua, it  was  a well-watered  spot  in  a thirsty  land,  and 
population  slowly  gathered  to  it.  As  Argentina  began 
to  fill  up  with  settlers  in  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  and  as  railways  began  to  be  pushed  farther  and 
farther  inland  from  the  Atlantic  coast,  the  notion  of 
making  a railway  across  the  Andes  began  to  dawn  on 
enterprising  minds,  especially  after  the  Brenner  and 
Cenis  lines  had  been  constructed  across  and  through 
the  main  chain  of  the  Alps.  At  last  an  English  company 
built  a railroad  up  to  this  town  of  Mendoza,  and  noth- 
ing remained  except  to  pierce  the  belt  of  mountain 
country.  That,  however,  was  no  simple  matter.  The 
belt  is  indeed  of  no  great  width.  The  Cordillera, 
which  in  the  latitude  of  Antofagasta  is  the  western 
edge  of  a high  plateau,  has  here  narrowed  itself  down 


250 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


to  a single  very  lofty  ridge,  the  summits  of  which  are 
from  18,000  to  23,000  feet  in  height.  There  are  trans- 
verse lower  ridges  running  at  right  angles  to  the  main 
chain,  both  westward  towards  the  Pacific  and  eastward 
to  the  Argentine  plain,  but  as  these  ridges  average  only 
thirty-five  miles  in  length  on  the  latter  and  twenty-five 
on  the  former  side,  the  whole  distance  from  the  low 
country  on  the  eastern  side  to  the  low  country  on  the 
western,  does  not  exceed  seventy  miles,  which  is  less 
than  the  width  (between  Luzern  and  Arona)  of  the 
much  less  lofty  chain  of  the  Alps  at  the  point  where 
the  Gothard  railway  crosses  it. 

The  central  ridge  of  the  Cordillera  is,  however,  so  con- 
tinuously lofty  and  its  slopes  so  steep  as  to  be  passable 
for  beasts  of  burden  at  very  few  points  and  then  only 
during  the  summer  months.  Among  these  points  that 
which  has  for  a long  time,  probably  from  days  before 
the  Spanish  conquest,  been  most  in  use,  is  the  Uspallata 
Pass,  so  called  from  a place  about  fifteen  miles  west  of 
Mendoza  on  the  mule  track  which  runs  from  that  town 
towards  the  mountains.  As  population  increased,  there 
was  at  last  substituted  for  the  mule  track  a road  passa- 
ble by  vehicles.  Finally,  in  1887,  a railroad  began  to 
be  constructed  up  the  long  and  winding  river  valley 
which  leads  from  Mendoza  to  the  main  chain,  while  on 
the  Chilean  side,  another  railway  was  built  up  the 
shorter  valley  which  rises  to  the  western  foot  of  the 
same  ridge. 

Thereafter,  the  work  of  construction  stopped  for  a 
good  while,  passengers  continuing  to  cross  the  ridge  on 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


251 


foot  or  mule  back,  or  in  vehicles  which  painfully  climbed 
the  steep  track  that  led  over  the  top.  At  last  a tunnel 
under  this  ridge  was  bored,  and  the  whole  line  opened 
for  traffic  in  1909.  The  tunnel  is  only  two  and  a half 
miles  long,  much  shorter  than  those  which  penetrate  the 
Alps  at  the  Simplon,  the  Gothard  and  the  Cenis.  But 
its  height  above  sea-level  (12,000  feet)  is  much  greater 
and  the  scenery  along  the  line  more  striking.  If  any  other 
trunk  line  of  railroad  in  the  world  traverses  a region  so 
extraordinary,  it  has  not  yet  been  described.  Till  one 
is  run  from  Kashmir  to  Kashgar,  over  or  under  the 
Karakoram  Pass,  this  Andean  line  seems  likely  to  “hold 
the  record.” 

The  description  of  the  Uspallata  route  may  begin 
from  Valparaiso.  From  that  port  to  the  junction  for 
Santiago  at  the  station  of  Llai  Llai  the  country  is  hilly, 
rather  dry,  with  rolling  pastures  and  meadows  along 
the  streams,  and  thickets  of  small  trees  or  scrub  on  the 
slopes,  — a country  much  like  southern  California,  save 
that  there  are  no  oaks  and  no  coniferous  trees.  Further 
on,  the  hills  grow  higher ; there  are  rocks  with  patches 
of  brilliant  flowers,  and  occasional  glimpses  of  the  great 
range  are  caught  up  the  openings  of  valleys.  At  a pretty 
place  called  Santa  Rosa  de  los  Andes,  the  Andean  rail- 
way proper  (Ferro  Carril  Transandino)  begins,  and  we 
change  into  a car  of  narrower  gauge. 

This  Transandine  railroad,  one  of  the  few  which  does 
not  belong  to  the  Chilean  government,  is  narrow  gauge, 
and  its  construction  involved  difficulties  unusual  even 
in  the  case  of  mountain  lines,  not  only  because  the 


252 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


grades  were  very  steep,  but  also  because  the  valleys 
leading  up  to  the  central  ridge  were,  especially  that  on 
the  Chilean  side,  extremely  narrow.  To  have  bored 
corkscrew  or  zigzag  tunnels,  like  those  on  the  Gothard 
railway  in  Switzerland,  would  have  involved  an  ex' 
penditure  altogether  disproportionate  to  the  returns  tc 
be  expected  from  the  traffic.  It  was  therefore  found 
necessary  to  adopt  the  cog-wheel  system ; and  on  those 
parts  of  the  line  where  the  grade  is  too  steep  for  the 
ordinary  locomotive  a rack  or  cog-wheel  apparatus  is 
fixed  between  the  rails,  and  the  locomotive,  fitted  with 
a corresponding  apparatus,  climbs  by  its  help.  This 
reduces  the  speed  of  the  train  in  ascending  those  steep 
parts,  most  of  which  are  on  the  Chilean  side,  and  una- 
voidably reduces  also  the  freight- carrying  capacity  of 
the  line.  There  is,  therefore,  not  much  heavy  goods 
traffic  passing  over  it.1  But  to  passengers  who  wish 
to  save  time  and  escape  a sea  voyage  the  gain  is  enor- 
mous, for  while  the  transit  from  Valparaiso  to  Buenos 
Aires  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan  takes  eleven  days, 
the  land  journey  by  this  Transandine  railway  can  be 
accomplished  in  forty  hours.  The  regular  working  of 
the  trains  had  been  interrupted  in  the  winter  before  our 
visit  by  heavy  falls  of  snow,  but  the  construction  of 
snowsheds,  which  was  in  progress,  has  probably  by  this 
time  overcome  such  difficulties. 

Travellers  sleep  at  Santa  Rosa  in  order  to  start  early 

1 Many  cattle  are  exported  from  Argentine  to  Chile,  but  these 
can  here,  as  in  the  passes  of  southern  Chile,  be  driven  over  the  top 
of  the  ridge,  though  many  now  go  by  rail. 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


253 


in  the  morning  by  the  tri-weekly  train  which  in  twelve 
hours  crosses  the  mountains  to  Mendoza.  From  the 
hotel  at  the  station,  we  looked  straight  up  a long,  nar- 
row valley  to  tremendous  peaks  of  black  rock  thirty 
miles  away  to  the  east.  How  they  stood  out  against 
the  bright  morning  sky  behind  them,  a few  white  clouds 
hovering  above ! One  felt  at  a glance  that  this  is  one 
of  the  great  ranges  of  the  world,  just  as  one  feels  the 
great  musician  in  the  first  few  chords  of  a symphony. 

Up  this  valley  runs  the  railway  past  little  farm-houses, 
surrounded  by  stiff  poplars,  which  thrive  well  here, 
though  the  tree  is  not  a native,  but  brought  from 
Europe.  Fields,  irrigated  from  the  rushing  stream  be- 
neath, are  green  with  young  corn ; weeping  willows 
droop  over  the  watercourses,  vines  trail  along  the  fronts 
of  the  cottages,  and  the  pastures  are  bright  with  spring 
flowers.  A cart  road  runs  parallel  to  the  line,  and  here 
one  sees  better  than  in  the  cities  the  true  Chilean  roto 
(peasant  of  mixed  Spanish  and  Indian  blood),  in  his 
rough  coat  and  cotton  shirt,  baggy  trousers  and  high 
boots  fitted  with  large  spurs,  his  low-crowned,  narrow- 
brimmed  felt  or  straw  hat,  and  on  his  shoulders  the 
thick  homespun  poncho  characteristic  of  South  Amer- 
ica. His  horse  is  usually  near  him,  for  they  are  all 
riders,  a sturdy  little  animal  with  many  saddle-cloths 
and  a heavy,  high-peaked  saddle  and  heavy  bit. 

After  eight  or  ten  miles  the  valley  narrows,  and  at  its 
bottom  there  is  only  the  torrent  with  sometimes  a few 
yards  of  grass  on  one  or  other  bank.  The  rock  walls 
begin  to  rise  more  steeply,  and  the  trees  give  place  to 


254 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


shrubs.  At  a spot  called  the  Soldier’s  Leap,  the  train 
runs  on  a shelf  in  the  rock  through  a gorge  over  which 
the  converging  crags  almost  touch  one  another  and  shut 
out  the  light,  the  torrent  roaring  sixty  feet  below. 
One  considerable  stream,  the  Rio  Blanco,  descends 
from  the  south,  but  otherwise  there  are  no  side^  glens. 
Vast  black  precipices  rise  on  the  northern  bank  six 
or  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  river.  Slender 
streamlets,  perhaps  the  children  of  unseen  snows 
behind,  fall  slowly  from  ledge  to  ledge,  some  of  them 
lost  in  mid-air  when  a gust  of  the  west  wind  sweeps 
them  along. 

At  last,  vegetation  having  now  disappeared,  a great 
black  ridge  rises  in  front  across  the  end  of  the  valley 
and  seems  to  bar  further  progress.  On  its  steep  face, 
however,  one  can  presently  discover  a sort  of  track, 
winding  up  it  in  zigzags.  This  is  the  old  mule  path 
by  which  travellers  used  to  climb  slowly  to  the  pass, 
itself  still  far  behind.  The  spot  at  its  foot,  where  there 
are  a few  houses,  is  Juncal,  the  last  place  where  the 
wayfarer  halted  to  rest  before  he  started  for  the  for- 
midable passage  of  the  mountains.  Here  two  glens  open- 
ing from  opposite  sides  meet  at  the  foot  of  the  great 
ridge.  The  glen  to  the  north  is  short,  descending 
abruptly  from  a semicircle  of  savage  black  peaks,  the 
hollows  between  them  filled  with  snow  and  ice.  That 
to  the  south  is  long,  narrow,  and  nearly  level ; it  is  a 
deep  cleft  which  runs  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains 
as  far  as  the  west  side  of  the  mighty  Tupungato,  whose 
glaciers  feed  its  torrent.  Up  this  southern  valley  the 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


255 


railway,  turning  at  right  angles  from  its  previous  east- 
erly direction,  runs  for  some  miles,  then  crosses  and 
leaves  the  torrent,  turns  north  and  mounts  along  a nar- 
row shelf  cut  out  in  the  side  of  the  great  black  ridge  of 
Juncal,  already  mentioned.  The  slope  rising  above  the 
line  and  falling  below  it  to  the  valley  is  of  terrific  steep- 
ness. The  grade  is  also  steep  and  the  locomotive  toils 
and  pants  slowly  upward  by  the  aid  of  the  cog-wheel, 
passing  through  tunnel  after  tunnel  till  at  last  it  comes 
out,  two  thousand  feet  above  Juncal,  into  a wide  hollow 
surrounded  by  sharp  peaks,  those  to  the  north  streaked 
with  beds  of  snow,  those  on  the  south  of  bare  rock, 
because  the  snow  has  been  melted  off  their  sunward 
turned  slopes.  The  bottom  of  this  hollow  is  covered 
with  enormous  blocks  that  have  fallen  from  the  cliffs, 
and  its  northern  end  is  filled  by  a small  lake,  part  of 
whose  surface  was  covered  with  ice.  The  fanciful  name 
of  Lago  del  Inca  has  been  given  to  it.  A scene  more 
savage  in  its  black  desolation  it  would  be  hard  to 
imagine.  Compared  to  this  frozen  lake,  the  glacier 
lakes  of  the  Swiss  Alps,  like  the  Marjelen  See  on  the 
Aletsch  glacier,  are  gentle  and  smiling.  The  strong 
sunlight  and  brilliant  blue  of  the  sky  seemed  to  make 
the  rocks  blacker  and  bring  out  their  absolute  bareness 
with  not  so  much  as  a moss  or  a lichen  to  relieve 
it.  From  the  lake  the  railway,  making  another  great 
sweep,  climbs  another  slope  and  enters  another  still 
higher  hollow,  where  it  stops  at  the  base  of  a steep 
ridge.  Here  a cluster  of  huts  of  corrugated  iron,  more 
than  usually  hideous  in  such  a landscape,  marks  the 


256 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mouth  of  the  great  tunnel,  at  a point  10,486  feet 
above  the  sea.  In  winter  everything  is  covered  deep 
with  snow  and  now,  in  October,  patches  were  still 
lying  about  and  the  cold,  except  in  the  sun,  was  severe. 
Big  icicles  were  hanging  from  the  eaves  of  the  iron  hut 
roofs. 

/ 

Reserving  for  a later  page  some  account  of  the  top  of 
the  Pass  and  the  colossal  statue  of  Christ  which  has 
been  set  up  there,  I will  describe  the  route,  as  travellers 
now  take  it,  through  the  tunnel  into  Argentina  and 
down  the  valley  to  the  plains  at  Mendoza.  The  tunnel, 
cut  through  hard  andesite  rock,  under  a ridge  fifteen 
hundred  feet  higher,  is  nearly  three  miles  long,  and  the 
passage  through  it  takes  ten  minutes.  The  air  is  cool 
and  free  from  that  sense  of  oppression  which  people 
complain  of  in  the  Gothard.  The  Duke  of  Wellington 
used  to  say  that  the  business  of  a general  in  war  con- 
sists largely  in  guessing  what  is  on  the  other  side  of 
the  hill.  Whoever  crosses  a hill  on  foot  or  horseback 
sees  the  surrounding  landscape  change  by  degrees,  and 
is  more  or  less  prepared  for  the  view  which  the  hilltop 
gives  of  what  lies  bevond.  But  when  carried  along 
in  the  darkness  through  the  very  core  of  a great  moun- 
tain range  expectation  is  more  excited,  and  the  sudden 
burst  of  a new  landscape  is  more  startling.  So  when, 
after  the  few  minutes  of  darkness,  we  rushed  out  into 
the  light  of  the  Argentine  side,  there  was  a striking 
contrast.  This  eastern  valley  was  wider  and  the  peaks 
rose  with  a bolder,  smoother  sweep,  their  flanks  covered 
with  long  slides  of  dark  sand  and  gravel,  their  tops  a line 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


257 


of  bare  precipices,  not  less  lofty  than  those  on  the  Chilean 
side  but  shewing  less  snow.  The  air  was  drier  and  the 
aspect  of  things  not,  indeed,  less  green,  for  there  had  been 
neither  shrub  nor  plant  visible  since  we  passed  Juncal,  but 
more  scorched  and  more  aggressively  sterile.  There  was 
far  more  colour,  for  on  each  side  of  the  long  valley  that 
stretched  before  us  to  the  eastward  the  declivities  of 
the  ridges  that  one  behind  another  dipped  towards  it 
on  both  sides  glowed  with  many  tints  of  yellow,  brown, 
and  grey.  A great  flat-topped  summit  of  a rich  red, 
passing  into  purple,  closed  the  valley  in  the  distance. 
The  mountains  immediately  above  this  upper  hollow 
of  the  glen  — it  is  called  Las  Cuevas  — though  nine- 
teen or  twenty  thousand  feet  high,  are  imposing,  not 
so  much  by  their  height,  for  the  bottom  of  the  hollow 
is  itself  ten  thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  but  rather 
by  the  grand  lines  with  which  they  rise,  the  middle 
and  lower  slopes  covered  by  sloping  beds  of  grey 
ash  and  black  sand,  thousands  of  feet  long,  while  at 
the  head  of  the  glen  to  the  northwest  glaciers  hang 
from  the  crags  that  stand  along  the  central  range,  the 
boundary  of  the  two  countries.  In  the  presence  of 
such  majesty,  the  grim  desolation  of  the  scene  is  half 
forgotten. 

From  Las  Cuevas  the  train  runs  rapidly  down  east- 
ward, following  the  torrent  through  a confused  mass  of 
gigantic  blocks  that  have  fallen  from  the  cliffs  above,  and 
after  seven  or  eight  miles,  it  passes  the  opening  of  a lateral 
glen  down  which  there  comes  a far  fuller  torrent,  bearing 
the  water  that  has  melted  from  the  glaciers  of  Aconca- 
8 


258 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


gua.  The  huge  mass  of  that  mountain,  loftiest  of  all 
the  summits  of  the  Western  Hemisphere,  is  seen  fifteen 
miles  away,  standing  athwart  the  head  of  this  lateral 
valley.  It  is  a long  ridge  of  snow,  arching  into  two 
domes  with  a tremendous  precipice  of  black  rock  facing 
south,  on  the  upper  edge  of  which  is  a cliff  pf  neve. 
The  falling  fragments  of  thin  ice  feed  a glacier  below, 
just  as  a similar  ice  cliff  above  a similar  precipice  makes 
a little  glacier  thousands  of  feet  below  on  the  side  of 
Mount  Ararat.  The  top  of  Aconcagua  is  nearly  twenty- 
three  thousand  feet  high,  and  the  valley  at  this  point 
about  eight  thousand.  Only  in  the  Himalayas  and  the 
Andes  can  one  see  a peak  close  at  hand  soar  into  air 
fifteen  thousand  feet  above  the  eye,  and  I doubt  if  there 
be  any  other  peak  even  in  the  Andes  which  rises  so 
near  and  so  grandly  above  the  spectator.  It  was  first 
ascended  in  1897  by  an  Englishman,  Mr.  Vines.  The 
steepness  of  the  snow  slopes  offered  less  difficulty  than 
did  the  rarity  of  the  air,  the  violence  of  the  winds,  the 
severity  of  the  cold,  besides  the  other  hardships  which 
are  incident  to  camp  life  in  this  desolate  region,  where 
the  climber,  far  from  all  supplies,  waits  day  after 
day  for  weather  steady  enough  to  permit  an  attempt 
highly  dangerous  except  under  favouring  climatic  con- 
ditions. 

A little  below  this  point  one  reaches  the  spot  called 
Puente  del  Inca  (the  Inca’s  bridge).  Unusual  natural 

1 An  account  of  the  ascent  and  of  all  this  region  will  be  found  in 
Mr.  E.  A.  Fitzgerald’s  High  Andes,  the  author  of  which  was  prevented 
by  illness  from  reaching  the  summit. 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


259 


phenomena  are  called  after  the  Incas  in  these  countries, 
just  as  they  are  after  the  Devil  in  Europe.  Hot 
springs  of  some  medicinal  value  which  gush  from  the 
ground  have  been  turned  to  account  in  a small  bathing 
establishment  to  which  a few  visitors  resort  in  summer. 
There  is  a real  natural  curiosity  in  the  sort  of  bridge 
which  the  torrent  has  formed  by  cutting  a way  for  itself 
underneath  a detrital  mass,  the  upper  part  of  which 
has  been  bound  hard  together  by  the  mineral  deposits 
from  the  hot  springs,  so  that  it  makes  a firm  roadway 
above  the  river  roaring  below.  The  place  is,  however, 
unspeakably  lonely  and  dreary,  bare  and  shelterless,  too 
sterile  for  aught  but  a few  low,  prickly  shrubs  to  grow. 
Over  it  whistles  that  fierce  west  wind  which  comes  up 
from  the  Pacific  in  the  afternoon,  and  sweeps  down 
this  valley  chilled  by  the  snowy  heights  which  it  has 
crossed. 

The  journey  down  the  valley  from  this  point  is  a piece 
of  scenery  to  which  it  would  be  hard  to  find  a parallel 
on  any  other  railroad.  It  is  like  traversing  the  interior 
of  an  extinct  volcano,  for  the  rocks  are  all  volcanic,  of 
different  ages  and  different  colours,  black  and  grey 
lavas,  yellow  and  pink  and  whitish  and  bluish  beds  of 
tufa  and  indurated  ash,  sometimes  with  long  streaks 
of  gravel  or  dark  sand  streaming  down  from  the  base 
of  the  precipices  above.  At  one  place  there  is  seen  just 
under  such  a precipice,  a row  of  sharp  black  pinnacles, 
not  unlike  miniature  aiguilles,  apparently  the  remains 
of  a lava  bed  that  has  disintegrated,  leaving  its  harder 
parts  to  stand  erect.  These  are  called  the  Penitentes, 


260 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


from  a fancied  resemblance  to  sinners  in  black  robes 
standing  or  kneeling  to  do  penance.1  I could  perceive 
no  trace  of  any  defined  craters  or,  indeed,  of  any  recent 
volcanic  phenomena  in  the  valley,  and  should  conjecture 
that  subterranean  fires  had  died  out  here  many  ages 
ago.  Of  the  former  presence  of  glaciers  and  the  action 
of  water  on  a great  scale  there  are  abundant  signs  in 
the  remains  of  large  moraines  and  in  the  masses  of  allu- 
vium, through  which  the  streams  have  cut  deep  trenches 
all  the  way  down  the  valley.  Its  mountain  walls  rise 
so  high  and  steep  that  the  snow  mountains  behind  are 
hidden.  But  at  one  point  where  a narrow  glen  comes 
down  from  the  south,  there  is  seen  at  the  end  of  a long 
vista,  thirty  miles  away,  the  great,  blunt  pyramid  of 
Tupungato.2  Tupungato  attains  22,000  feet,  the  upper 
six  thousand  of  which  are  draped  in  white,  and  is,  among 
the  southern  Andes,  inferior  only  to  Aconcagua  and  to 
Mercedario. 

About  thirty  miles  below  the  tunnel  the  valley  opens 
into  the  little  plain  of  Uspallata,  bounded  on  the  op- 
posite or  eastern  side  by  a range  of  flat-topped  hills, 
across  which  the  old  mule  track  and  carriage  road 
ran  to  Mendoza.  This  range,  running  parallel  to  the 
main  chain  of  the  Cordillera  and  therefore  at  right 

1 This  name  is  in  the  Andes  usually  applied  to  the  sharp  little 
peaks  of  ice  that  stand  up,  like  the  pyramidal  points  of  seracs, 
on  the  surface  of  Andean  glaciers,  and  it  suits  them  better,  because 
penitents  wear  white  garments.  The  similarity  of  form  has  how- 
ever caused  it  to  be  applied  to  these  black  towers  also. 

2 It  was  first  ascended  by  Mr.  Vines  in  1897.  The  measurements 
of  Aconcagua  vary  from  23,200  to  22,425  feet.  Mercedario  is  given 
at  22,300  and  Tupungato  at  22,015. 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


261 


angles  to  the  valley  down  which  we  had  come,  turns 
the  course  of  the  torrent  southward,  forcing  it  to  find  its 
way  out  to  the  level  country  through  a deep  gorge  or 
canon.  The  railway  follows  the  river.  As  we  reached 
Uspallata,  the  declining  sun  was  turning  to  a rosy  pink 
the  mists  that  hung  upon  the  peaks  to  the  northwest, 
now  hiding  and  now  revealing  the  snow  fields  that 
filled  their  highest  hollows.  The  dry  eastern  hills 
glowed  purple  under  its  rays,  and  the  purple  was  deep- 
ening into  violet  in  the  fading  fight  when  the  train 
plunged  into  the  depths  of  the  canon  along  the  banks 
of  the  swirling  stream.  Here  we  were  at  once  in  dif- 
ferent scenery.  The  rocks  were  of  red  and  grey  granite, 
and  there  were  shrubs  enough  to  give  some  greenness 
to  the  slopes.  Stern  and  wild  as  the  landscape  was, 
it  seemed  cheerful  and  homelike  compared  with  the 
black  grimness  of  the  volcanic  region  above.  Night 
descended  before  we  had  emerged  into  the  Argentine 
plain,  and  when  we  drove  through  the  friendly  lights  of 
Mendoza  to  our  hotel  in  the  handsome  Plaza,  it  was 
hard  to  believe  that  four  hours  before  we  had  been  in 
the  awesome  Valley  of  Desolation  between  Aconcagua 
and  Tupungato. 

To  these  two  mountains  Mendoza  owes  its  existence. 
It  stands  in  an  oasis  watered  by  the  torrent  which 
brings  down  the  melting  of  their  snows,  the  rest  of  this 
part  of  Argentina  being  an  almost  rainless  tract,  where 
coarse  grass  and  sometimes  low  scrub-woods  cover 
ground  that  is  barely  fit  for  pasturage  and  hopeless  for 
tillage.  At  this  spot,  however,  the  perennial  flow  of  the 


262 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


glacier-born  river  suffices  to  fill  numerous  channels  by 
which  water  is  carried  through  fields  and  vineyards 
over  a wide  area,  giving  verdure  and  fertility.  It  was 
the  good  fortune  of  this  position  that  made  Mendoza’s 
lieutenant,  Castillo,  choose  this  spot  so  far  back  as 
1560  for  the  first  Spanish  settlement  made  on  this  side 
of  the  mountains.  For  a long  time  it  remained  a tiny 
and  isolated  outpost,  useful  only  as  a resting  place  on 
the  track  from  Chile  to  the  Atlantic  coast.  But  it  was 
never  forsaken,  and  though  frequently  shaken  and  as  late 
as  1860  laid  in  ruins  by  earthquakes,  it  has  of  late  years 
recovered  itself  and  become  a prosperous  centre  of 
commerce. 

It  stands  on  the  great  Pampa,  just  at  the  point 
where  the  last  declivities  of  that  low,  flat-topped  range 
to  which  I have  referred  sink  into  the  vast  and  almost 
unbroken  level,  slightly  declining  eastward,  which 
extends  six  hundred  miles  from  here  to  Buenos  Aires. 
As  the  fear  of  earthquakes  keeps  the  houses  low,  and 
the  streets  are  wide,  it  covers  a space  of  ground  large  in 
proportion  to  its  population  which  is  45,000.  The  prin- 
cipal business  thoroughfare  is  quite  handsome  with 
double  rows  of  lofty  Carolina  poplars  and  a cool 
stream  of  reddish  glacier  water  coursing  along  beneath. 
In  the  ample  Plaza,  planted  with  plane  trees,  there 
is  a colossal  statue  of  San  Martin  the  Liberator  of 
Argentina  and  Chile ; and  quite  recently  a large  park 
with  an  artificial  lake  has  been  laid  out  on  the  slope 
of  the  hill.  All  these  adornments  are  due  to  the  Men- 
doza River  (the  one  which  descends  from  Aconcagua) 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


263 


and  two  other  smaller  streams,  whose  combined  waters 
have  been  skilfully  used  not  only  to  beautify  the  city, 
but  to  irrigate  a wide  space  round.  Most  of  the  land  is 
planted  with  vines,  but  all  sorts  of  fruit  trees,  particu- 
larly peaches,  pears,  and  cherries,  are  grown  and  de- 
spatched by  rail  to  the  eastern  cities.  Vine  culture  is  in 
the  hands  of  the  Italians,  who  have  settled  here  in  large 
numbers,  and  brought  with  them  their  skill  in  wine  mak- 
ing. In  an  establishment  which  we  saw,  managed  by 
an  Italian  gentleman  from  Lombardy,  it  was  interest- 
ing to  note  how  chemical  science  and  mechanical  inven- 
tion have  changed  the  forms  of  this  oldest  of  human 
industries.  Thirty-five  years  before  in  the  port  wine 
country  of  the  Douro  I had  seen  the  ancient  wine-press 
scarcely  changed,  if  changed  at  all,  from  the  days  of 
Virgil,  perhaps  from  the  days  of  Isaiah,  perhaps  from  the 
days  of  Noah,  with  the  old  simple  methods  of  casking  and 
keeping  the  wine  still  in  use.  Now  it  is  all  factory  work, 
done  like  that  of  a foundry  or  a cotton  mill  by  all  sorts 
of  modern  scientific  methods  and  appliances.  The  wine 
made  here  is  of  common  quality,  intended  for  the  humbler 
part  of  the  Argentine  population,  who  have  happily  not 
exchanged  their  South  European  habits  for  the  modern 
love  of  ardent  spirits.  Nearly  all  the  country  is  supplied 
from  Mendoza  because  eastern  Argentina  is  ill  fitted  for 
viticulture.  The  vineyards,  interspersed  with  meadows 
of  the  bright  blue-green  alfalfa,  give  some  beauty  to 
the  oasis,  though  the  vines  are  mostly  trained  on  sticks, 
not  made  to  climb  the  poplar  or  mulberry  as  they  do  in 
north  Italy.  The  land  both  north  and  south  outside  the 


264 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


range  of  irrigation  is  a sterile  wilderness,  except  along 
the  banks  of  a few  streams  that  descend  from  the 
Andes,  and  to  the  east  also  it  remains  barren  for  a long 
way,  bearing  nothing  except  the  algaroba  tree,  which  is 
of  use  for  firewood,  but  for  little  else.  Travelling  still 
farther  eastward,  one  reaches  a region  where  d,  moist er 
climate  gives  grass  sufficient  for  ranching,  and  thereafter, 
the  rainfall  growing  more  copious  as  one  approaches 
the  Atlantic,  comes  the  regiqn  of  those  prodigious 
wheat  fields  which  are  now  making  the  wealth  of  this 
country. 

Here  in  Argentina  we  were  “on  the  other  side  of  the 
hill,”  in  a social  as  well  as  in  a physical  sense,  and  we 
soon  found  ourselves  trying  to  note  the  differences  be- 
tween Chileans  and  Argentines,  peoples  of  the  same 
origin,  dwelling  side  by  side  but  divided  by  a lofty 
mountain  chain.  Two  contrasts  are  evident.  Chile  is, 
always  excepting  Santiago  and  Valparaiso,  a quiet  tran- 
quil country,  developing  itself  in  a leisurely  way.  But 
in  Mendoza,  though  it  is  one  of  the  smaller  Argentine 
towns,  there  is  a stir  and  bustle  like  that  of  England  or 
Germany  or  North  America.  Land  values  are  going 
up.  Branch  lines  of  railway  are  being  run  through  the 
outskirts  of  the  city  among  the  vineyards.  The  main 
streets  are  crowded,  and  there  is  a general  air  of  “ ex- 
pansion ” and  money  making.  Then  in  Chile  the 
population  is  stable  and  comparatively  homogeneous. 
The  Germans  who  are  found  in  some  of  the  small  south- 
ern towns  have  settled  down  and  become  completely 
domesticated.  But  here  in  Argentina  the  Italians  who 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


265 


flock  in  daily  are  conspicuous  as  a growing  element, 
which  is  contributing  effectively  to  the  wealth  of  the 
country,  for  most  of  the  immigrants  are  hard-working 
and  intelligent  people  from  Lombardy  and  Piedmont. 
To  describe  with  precision  the  differences  between  the 
Argentines  proper,  that  is  to  say,  those  of  Spanish 
stock,  and  the  Chileans,  is  not  easy  for  a passing 
foreign  visitor,  nor  can  he  attempt  to  judge  whether 
the  Chilean  is  justified  in  claiming  that  he  is  more 
frank  and  open,  and  the  Argentine  that  he  is  more 
perfectly  a child  of  his  time.  One  does,  however,  re- 
ceive the  impression  that  the  Argentine,  being  usually 
better  off,  is  more  disposed  to  enjoy  himself.  In 
both  nations  Castilian  courtesy  has  lost  some  of  its 
elaborateness,  but  those  who  know  both  say  that  the 
change  has  tended  to  make  the  Chilean  of  the  less 
educated  class  more  abrupt  even  to  the  verge  of  brusque- 
ness, and  the  Argentine  more  offhand  and  “casual.” 
The  prosperous  Argentine  gathers  money  quickly  and 
spends  it  freely;  the  Chilean  retains  the  frugality  of 
old  Spain,  and  while  the  former  is  more  vivacious,  the 
latter  is  more  solid. 

Placed  on  the  edge  of  a monotonous  desert,  and  far 
from  all  other  cities,  Mendoza  may  seem  a depressing 
place  to  dwell  in,  yet  it  has  some  attractions  for  those 
to  whom  natural  environment  means  something.  At 
the  end  of  those  streets  which  open  to  the  west 
glimpses  are  caught  of  the  distant  richly  coloured 
mountains ; and  the  man  who  goes  to  and  fro  amidst 
the  crowd  on  his  daily  tasks  is  reminded  of  the  beauty 


266 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  a far-off  lonely  nature.  Then  there  is  the  view 
of  the  Andes  from  the  southwestern  outskirts  of  the 
city.  It  is  a view  specially  noble  just  at  sunrise, 
when  the  level  light  reddens  the  long  line  of  ghostly 
snows  that  stretches  south  for  more  than  a hundred 
miles  from  where  the  cone  of  Tupungato,  towering 
above  its  fellows,  is  the  first  to  catch  the  rays.  It 
is  like  the  view  of  the  Alps  from  Turin,  and  even 
grander,  since  not  only  the  height,  but  also  the  im- 
mense length  of  the  Andean  range,  trending  away 
towards  distant  Patagonia  till  its  furthest  peaks  sink 
below  the  horizon,  lays  upon  the  imagination  the  spell 
of  vastness  and  mystery. 

A third  equally  striking  prospect  is  that  over  the 
Pampa  from  the  high  ground  of  the  new  park.  There  is 
something  in  looking  over  a boundless  plain  that  in- 
spires more  awe  than  even  the  grandest  mountain 
landscape.  The  latter  is  limited,  the  former  thrills  the 
mind  with  a sense  of  infinity,  land  and  sky  meeting  at 
a point  which  one  cannot  fix.  There  is  little  colour 
on  this  plain  and  little  variety  of  aspect  except  that 
given  by  the  shadows  of  the  coursing  clouds.  But  its 
uniformity  seems  to  make  it  the  more  solemn. 

Over  that  plain  lay  our  shortest  way  to  Buenos 
Aires  and  Europe,  along  the  line  of  railroad  that  runs  for 
hundreds  of  miles  without  a curve  or  a rise  or  a bridge, 
always  steadily  eastward  to  the  sea.  But  it  is  a dull  and 
dusty  journey  through  a monotonous  landscape,  at  first 
mostly  desert,  then  mostly  pasture,  at  last  mostly 
wheat  fields,  but  always  flat  as  a table,  possibly  the 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


267 


widest  perfectly  level  plain  in  the  whole  world.  And 
we  had  the  stronger  reason  for  not  taking  this  route  that 
it  had  been  a main  object  of  our  journey  to  see  the 
Straits  of  Magellan,  that  great  sea  highway  from  ocean 
to  ocean,  the  finding  and  traversing  of  which  was  an 
achievement  second  only  to  the  voyage  of  Columbus.  So 
leaving  Mendoza  before  dawn,  we  threaded  the  windings 
of  the  granite  canon,  and  then,  passing  the  little  plain  of 
Uspallata,  took  our  way  up  the  long  volcanic  Valley  of 
Desolation,  that  leads  to  the  pass,  finding  it  not  less 
strange  and  terrible  than  it  had  seemed  two  days  be- 
fore. When  we  reached  the  Argentine  end  of  the  tunnel 
at  Las  Cuevas,  we  quitted  the  train  in  order  to  mount 
to  and  cross  the  top  of  the  pass,  the  Cumbre,  as  it  is 
called,  which  is  fifteen  hundred  feet  above,  and  over 
which,  until  the  tunnel  was  pierced,  all  travellers  walked 
or  rode.  The  ridge  is  composed  of  friable  volcanic  rock, 
decomposed  to  a sort  of  coarse  gravel,  steep  on  both 
sides,  but  most  so  on  the  Argentine.  The  road,  which, 
although  rough,  is  still  barely  passable  for  light  vehicles, 
is  not  likely  long  to  remain  so,  as  no  one  now  crosses  the 
ridge,  unless  indeed  he  wishes  to  see  the  statue  on  the 
top. 

We  took  mules,  for  in  this  thin  air  it  is  well  to  save 
effort  by  riding  when  one  can,  and  as  there  was  no 
vegetation,  there  could  be  no  gathering  of  alpine  plants. 
But  more  than  once  we  had  occasion  to  feel  that  we 
should  have  been  happier  on  our  feet,  for  in  heading  the 
animals  across  short  cuts  between  the  windings  of  the 
track  we  got  on  slopes  so  steep  that  it  was  a marvel  how 


268 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  creatures  could  keep  their  feet.  It  was  now  past 
midday,  so  a furious  west  wind  was  careering  over  this 
gap  between  the  far  loftier  heights  on  either  side,  and 
making  it  hard  for  the  mules  to  resist  it,  and  for  us  to 
keep  in  the  saddle.  Once  upset,  one  might  have  rolled 
down  for  hundreds  of  feet,  for  there  was  nothing  for 
beast  or  rider  to  catch  at. 

The  Cumbre  is  a flattish  ridge  hardly  a quarter  of  a 
mile  across,  with  towers  of  rock  rising  on  each  side,  the 
cold  intense  and  no  shelter  anywhere  from  the  biting  blast. 
There  is  a small  stone  hut,  but  it  was  half  full  of  snow. 
One  thought  of  the  hapless  travellers  of  former  days 
caught  here  in  some  blinding  snowstorm  far  from  human 
help.  One  recalled  the  daring  march  of  that  detachment 
of  the  Argentine  army  of  San  Martin,  when,  in  1817,  they 
crossed  the  pass  in  that  hero’s  expedition  to  deliver  Chile 
from  the  yoke  of  Spain,  the  rest  of  his  force  having  taken 
the  equally  difficult  though  less  lofty  route  by  the  Los 
Patos  Pass  to  the  north  of  Aconcagua.  The  passages 
of  the  Alps  by  Hannibal  and  by  Napoleon  were  over 
ridges  only  half  as  high  and  only  half  as  far  from  the 
dwellings  of  men. 

The  view  to  the  west  into  Chile  looking  down  into  the 
abysmal  depths  of  the  valley  that  leads  to  Santa  Rosa, 
with  formidable  spires  and  towers  of  rock  nineteen 
thousand  feet  high  rising  on  either  hand,  grand  and 
terrible  as  it  is,  is  less  extensive  and  less  imposing  than 
that  to  the  east  into  Argentina.  Both  Tupungato  to 
the  south  and  Aconcagua  to  the  north  are  hidden  by 
nearer  heights,  the  latter  by  the  huge  Tolorsa,  whose 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


269 


cliff-crested  slope  descends  in  singularly  beautiful  lines  to 
the  hollow  of  Las  Cuevas.  But  to  the  east  are  the  two 
great  ranges  that  enclose  the  valley,  their  forms  less 
bold  than  those  of  the  Chilean  mountains  to  the  west, 
where  rain  and  snow  wear  down  the  softer  rocks,  and 
leave  the  crags  standing  up  like  great  teeth,  but  their 
colours  richer  and  more  various. 

On  the  level  summit  of  the  pass  stands  the  Christ  of  the 
Andes,  a bronze  statue  of  more  than  twice  life  size  stand- 
ing on  a stone  pedestal  rough  hewn  from  the  natural  rock 
of  the  mountain.  The  figure,  which  is  turned  northwards 
so  as  to  look  over  both  countries  and  bless  them  with 
its  uplifted  right  hand,  is  dwarfed  by  the  vast  scale 
of  the  surrounding  pinnacles,  and  although  there  is 
dignity  in  the  attitude  and  tenderness  in  the  face,  it 
hardly  satisfies  the  conception  one  forms  of  what  such 
a figure  might  be.  Rarely  does  any  modern  represen- 
tation of  the  Redeemer  approach  the  dignity  and 
simplicity  which  the  painters  and  sculptors  of  the  Middle 
Ages  and  early  Renaissance  knew  how  to  give.1  But 
when  one  reflects  on  the  feeling  that  placed  this  statue 
here  and  the  meaning  it  has  for  the  two  peoples,  it  is  pro- 
foundly impressive.  There  had  been  a long  and  bitter 
controversy  between  Chile  and  Argentina  over  the  line  of 
their  boundary  along  the  Andes,  a controversy  which 
more  than  once  had  threatened  war.  At  last  they  agreed 
to  refer  the  dispute  to  the  arbitrament  of  Queen  Victoria 

1 The  finest  representation  I have  ever  seen  is  a twelfth-century 
mosaic  figure  of  Christ  in  the  apse  of  the  Norman  cathedral  at  Cefalu 
in  Sicily. 


270 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  Great  Britain.  A commission  was  authorized  by  her 
and  her  successor  to  examine  the  documents  which  bore 
upon  the  question  and  to  survey  the  frontier.  After 
years  of  careful  enquiry  an  award  was  delivered  and  a 
boundary  line  drawn  in  which  both  nations  acquiesced. 
Grateful  for  their  escape  from  what  might  have  been  a 
long  and  ruinous  strife,  they  cast  this  figure  out  of  the 
metal  of  cannon,  and  set  up  here  this  monument  of  peace 
and  good-will,  unique  in  its  place  and  in  its  purpose, 
to  be  an  everlasting  witness  between  them. 

We  descended  the  opposite  side  of  the  pass  on  foot 
in  the  teeth  of  the  raging  blast,  taking  short  cuts  across 
the  broken  rocks,  and  avoiding  the  steep  snowbeds. 
At  Caracoles,  the  stopping  place  at  the  Chilean  end  of 
the  tunnel,  the  manager  of  the  railway,  a bright  and 
pleasant  young  North  American  engineer,  who  had 
accompanied  us  over  the  top,  and  to  whose  courtesy  we 
had  been  much  beholden  on  the  whole  trip,  proposed 
to  run  us  down  the  first  and  steepest  part  of  the  de- 
scent to  the  station  of  Rio  Blanco,  on  an  open  trolley. 
By  now  the  sun  was  near  his  setting,  but  there  would 
presently  be  some  moon,  so  we  welcomed  the  sugges- 
tion of  this  less  familiar  kind  of  locomotion  and  started 
m the  waning  light,  sitting  on  a low  bench  back  to  back, 
so  as  to  steady  one  another,  while  our  friend  the  mana- 
ger took  his  seat  on  the  edge  of  the  little  car  and  grasped 
the  brake  handle.  We  ran  swiftly  down  the  first  steep 
incline  to  the  Frozen  Lake,  while  the  orange  glow  of  the 
sky  was  paling  to  a cold  and  steely  grey,  then  out  to  the 
edge  of  the  ridge  which  rises  above  Juncal,  then  down 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


271 


into  the  black  depths  of  the  Juncal  Valley,  along  the  nar- 
row shelf  cut  out  of  the  rock,  rushing  down  the  steep 
incline  in  and  out  of  the  tunnels.  The  tunnels  were 
hardly  blacker  than  the  night  without,  for  the  moon 
was  still  hidden  behind  the  peaks.  At  length  she  rose 
over  the  crags,  just  where  the  torrent  comes  down 
from  behind  Tupungato,  and  for  the  rest  of  our 
twenty-six  miles  we  could  by  her  help  see  a little  way 
ahead,  just  enough  to  know  if  some  block  had  fallen 
from  above  upon  the  rails.  It  was  bitterly  cold,  but 
cold  is  more  easily  borne  in  this  keen,  dry  air  than  in 
humid  England,  and  sometimes  we  forgot  it  in  noting 
how  the  trolley  quickened  or  reduced  its  speed  as  the 
practised  hand  on  the  brake  loosened  it  on  a straight  run 
or  pressed  it  hard  when  we  entered  a dangerous  curve. 
Twice  before  I had  made  similar  descents,  once  down 
the  Himalayan  railway  from  Darjiling  to  Siliguri,  and 
once  through  the  dismal  solitudes  of  the  Bolan  Pass 
in  Beluchistan.  But  those  were  in  broad  daylight.  To 
get  the  thrills  of  such  a ride  in  their  brimming  fulness 
one  must  take  it  in  the  pale  moonlight,  passing  into 
and  out  of  the  shadow  of  black  crags  as  one  spins  along 
the  ringing  lines  of  steel. 

As  it  is  here  that  I bid  farewell  to  the  Andes,  this  is 
a fitting  place  for  some  observations  on  their  scenery, 
as  compared  with  that  of  the  mountain  systems 
more  familiar  to  most  of  us,  such  as  the  Alps  and 
the  Caucasus,  and  the  Himalayas,  in  the  Old  World ; 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  Sierra  Nevada  in  the 
New.  It  is,  however,  only  of  the  central  and  southern 


272 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


parts  of  the  Andes,  and  for  the  most  part  of  their  west- 
ern side,  that  I can  speak,  for  I had  no  time  to  visit  the 
valleys  which  descend  into  the  forests  of  eastern  Peru 
and  Bolivia.  But  before  I come  to  the  scenery,  let  a 
few  words  be  said  upon  the  mountains  from  the 
climber’s  point  of  view,  as  offering  a field  for  his 
energy  and  skill. 

The  Andes  are  not  only  a longer  and  loftier  chain 
than  any  of  those  just  named,  except  the  Himalayas, 
but  are  altogether  on  a vaster  scale,  the  plateaux  higher 
and  wider,  the  valleys  longer  and  deeper.  Thus  they 
bear  what  one  may  call  a different  ratio  to  man,  — that 
is  to  say,  his  power  of  walking  and  climbing  enables 
him  to  accomplish  less  in  a given  time  in  these  two 
greater  than  in  the  lesser  ranges.  He  is  less  able 
to  cope  with  their  heights  and  their  distances,  especially 
as  above  a certain  height  the  rarity  of  the  air  reduces 
his  powers.  In  Great  Britain  an  active  man  can  ascend 
two  of  the  highest  mountains  in  a day  without  fatigue. 
In  the  Alps  a first-class  peak  demands  the  afternoon  of 
one  day  and  the  forenoon  of  another.  A little  more 
time  is  required  in  the  Caucasus,  a little  less  in  the 
Pyrenees  or  the  Tatra.  But  in  the  central  Andes  he 
may  probably  have  to  give  several  days  to  one  ascent, 
so  much  more  effort  is  required  to  reach  the  summit 
from  his  base  of  operations.  A coup  de  main  is  seldom 
possible ; one  must  allow  plenty  of  time  and  make 
elaborate  preparations. 

When  huge  mountains  with  spreading  bases  stand 
apart  from  one  another,  they  less  frequently  combine  to 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


273 


form  a landscape  perfect  in  the  variety  of  its  features 
than  do  the  mountains  of  lower  ranges.  Size  is  only 
one  element  in  grandeur.  A single  peak,  or  even  one 
of  its  precipices,  may  be  sublime  in  the  boldness  of 
its  lines  and  its  enormous  bulk,  yet  too  isolated  for 
that  kind  of  beauty  which  lies  either  in  the  com- 
bination of  fine  lines  or  in  the  contrast  of  rich  colours. 
A mountain  that  rises  alone  in  a desolate  region,  strewn 
with  tumbled  rocks  and  ancient  moraines,  or,  if  it 
be  a volcano,  with  fields  of  ashes  and  lava  spreading 
miles  from  its  base,  may  want  the  elements  which  make 
the  charm  of  scenery  in  Europe  or  the  temperate  parts 
of  North  America.  Andean  peaks  are  often  seen  best 
a long  way  off,  so  that  they  fall  into  groups  or  show 
one  behind  the  other,  giving  variety  of  position  and 
contrast  of  form.  Then,  the  unlovely  heaps  of 
gravel  and  stones  or  ash  cease  to  deface  the  landscape, 
because  distance,  touching  them  with  delicate  colour, 
gives  them  a beauty  not  their  own. 

These  atmospheric  effects  are  of  supreme  value  in  the 
scenery  of  the  arid  parts  of  South  America,  in  which  one 
may  include  nearly  all  of  the  higher  Peruvian,  Bolivian, 
and  North  Argentine  Andes.  Such  a dryness  as  belongs 
to  the  Pacific  coast  and  to  the  central  plateau  from 
Titicaca  southward  into  the  desert  of  Atacama  with- 
draws an  element  which  gives  half  their  charm  to  the 
best  parts  of  Europe,  for  it  forbids  grass  to  clothe  the 
hillsides  and  groves  to  break  the  monotony  of  plains. 
From  the  Equator  till  one  reaches  central  Chile,  there 
is  scarcely  any  water  in  Andean  landscapes,  very  few 


274 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


lakes,  except  Titicaca,  few  rivers,  and  those  rivers 
usually  torrents,  raging  at  the  bottom  of  deep  gorges, 
where  they  are  heard,  but  scarcely  seen.  There  is, 
except  in  the  deeper  valleys,  no  wood,  seldom  even  such 
glossy  shrubs  or  stunted  and  gnarled  trees  as  one 
finds  on  the  dry  isles  and  coasts  of  the  iEgean  qnd  the 
Levant,  or  on  the  equally  dry  hills  of  California  and 
Arizona.  Neither,  except  in  a few  upland  valleys,  is 
there  any  verdure  of  grassy  slopes.  Green,  the  softest 
and  most  tender  of  hues,  is  almost  wholly  absent  from 
the  great  ranges  and  the  plateau.  On  the  eastern  side 
of  the  Andes  there  is,  indeed,  vegetation  enough  and 
to  spare,  but  once  plunged  into  the  forest  all  distant 
views  are  lost,  for  it  is  everywhere  so  thick  that  neither 
it  nor  the  mountains  above  can  be  seen  at  all.  Except 
when  cresting  a ridge,  the  traveller  swelters  under  an 
unbroken  roof  of  impenetrable  foliage. 

What  redeems  the  scenery  of  the  high  Andes  is  the 
richness  and  delicacy  of  the  colours  which  the  brilliant 
desert  light  gives  to  distant  objects.  A black  peak  be- 
comes deep  purple;  a slope  of  dry,  grey  earth  takes  a 
tender  lilac;  and  evening  as  it  falls  transfigures  the  stones 
that  strew  the  sides  of  a valley  with  a soft  glow.  The 
snow  sparkles  and  glitters  at  noonday  and  flushes  in 
sunset  with  a radiance  unknown  to  our  climates.  This 
is  what  replaces  for  these  regions  the  charm  of  the  thick 
woods  and  marshy  pools  of  New  England,  of  the  deep 
grassed  river  meadows  of  France,  or  the  heathery  hillsides 
of  Scotland,  and  brightens  the  sternness  of  those  vast 
prospects  which  the  Cordillera  affords.  Yet  it  cannot 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


275 


make  them  inspire  the  sort  of  affection  we  feel  for  the 
mountains  of  temperate  countries,  with  their  constant 
changes  from  rain  to  sunlight,  their  fresh  streams  and 
bubbling  springs,  and  flowers  starring  the  high  pastures. 
So  the  finest  things  in  the  Andes  are  either  the  views 
of  a single  giant  peak,  like  that  of  Aconcagua,  de- 
scribed a few  pages  back,  or  some  distant  prospect  of 
a great  mountain  group  or  range,  such  as  that  of  the 
snowy  line  of  the  Cordillera  Real  as  it  rises  beyond 
Titicaca,  or  the  volcanic  peaks  of  Arequipa  seen  from 
the  desert  of  the  coast. 

It  follows  from  what  has  been  said  that  the  Andes 
offer  a much  less  favourable  field  for  the  landscape 
painter  than  do  the  lower  mountains  of  European 
countries,  such  as  Scotland  or  Norway,  or  the  Pyrenees 
or  Apennines.  The  nearer  and  lesser  beauties  which  the 
painter  loves  are  just  those  which  are  here  wanting. 
Sometimes  one  finds  landscapes  which  some  master  of 
the  grand  style  might  place  upon  a large  canvas.  Several 
such  there  are  in  the  Vilcanota  Valley,  especially  below 
Sicuani,  and  still  further  down  at  Ollantavtambo.  But 
the  want  of  what  is  called  “atmosphere”  and  the  com- 
parative scarcity  of  the  objects  which  make  good  fore- 
grounds are  serious  disadvantages.  Grandeur  and 
wildness,  not  beauty,  are  the  note  of  these  regions. 
Immense  depths  and  heights,  vast  spaces,  too  bleak 
and  bare  for  human  life,  lying  between  the  habitable 
valleys,  the  sense  of  tremendous  forces  at  work  piling 
up  huge  volcanic  cones,  of  unthinkable  periods  of  time 
during  which  the  hard  rocks  have  been  crumbling 


276 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


away  and  fathomless  gorges  have  been  excavated  by 
rivers,  — these  are  the  things  of  which  the  Andes  speak, 
and  they  speak  to  the  imagination  rather  than  to  the 
sense  of  beauty.  They  are  awesome,  not  loveable. 

It  is  with  European  scenery,  as  that  likely  to  be  most 
familiar  to  my  readers,  that  I have  been  trying,  to  com- 
pare the  scenery  of  the  Cordilleras.  But  a word  may 
be  added  about  the  Himalayas,  since  they,  too,  are  on 
a great  scale  and  the  fitter  to  be  compared  to  the  Andes 
because  near,  though  not  actually  within,  the  tropics. 

They  resemble  the  Andes  in  being  too  vast  for  beauty 
and  for  the  sort  of  enjoyment  to  be  derived  from  wander- 
ing among  mountains  of  a moderate  size,  whose  heights 
one  can  reach  with  no  excessive  fatigue.  It  is  even 
more  difficult  in  them  than  in  the  Cordilleras  to  explore 
the  valleys  and  reach  the  base  of  the  great  summits. 
They  offer  some  prospects  wider  and  grander  than  any  in 
South  America,  such  as  that  from  Phalut  on  the  borders 
of  Nepal  and  Sikkim,  where  forty  peaks,  each  of  which 
exceeds  twenty  thousand  feet,  stand  up  east,  north,  and 
west  of  the  beholder.1  The  capital  difference  between 
the  two  chains,  besides  that  difference  in  the  forms  which 
arises  from  geological  character,  the  Himalayas  being 
composed  of  ancient  crystalline  rocks,  while  many  of 
the  high  Andes  are  of  volcanic  origin,  lies  in  the  fact 
that  the  south  side  of  the  Himalayas  receives  abun- 
dance of  rain  and  is  covered  with  dense  forests.  This 

1 The  distant  view  of  Badrinath  and  Trisul  from  the  heights 
above  Naini  Tal  in  Kumaon  is  also  quite  as  imposing  as  anything 
we  saw  in  the  Andes. 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


27? 


adds  to  the  sublimity  of  the  great  Himalayan  views 
a certain  measure  of  beauty  which  the  Andes  lack. 
On  the  other  hand  those  effects  of  colour  on  bare  sur- 
faces which  belong  to  dryness  and  a powerful  sun, 
are  absent  in  the  parts  of  the  Himalayas  which  front 
toward  India.  When  one  passes  behind  the  outer  peaks 
into  the  great  tableland  of  Tibet,  physical  conditions 
resembling  those  of  the  Andean  deserts  appear ; and  the 
same  remark  applies  to  the  inner  valleys  of  the  north- 
western Himalaya,  such  as  that  of  the  upper  Indus. 
The  parallel  may  be  carried  further,  for  just  as  the 
Himalayan  chain  has  a dry  side,  that  turned  to  the 
lofty  northern  plateau  of  Tibet,  so  the  Andean  Cordil- 
lera has  a wet  side,  its  eastern,  turned  to  the  Amazonian 
forests.  This  side  I have  not  seen,  but  gather  from 
those  who  have  that  its  rock  and  river  scenery  is 
superbly  beautiful  in  the  valleys,  but  that  it  is  more 
difficult  than  in  the  Himalayas  to  obtain  a distant  view 
of  the  great  range,  because  the  points  are  few  at  which 
one  can  get  above  the  forest. 

Europe,  although  the  smallest,  is,  in  point  of  the 
accessibility,  and  of  what  may  be  called  the  service- 
ability to  man,  of  its  beauty,  the  most  fortunate  of  the 
continents.  Less  grand  and  extensive  than  either  the 
Himalayas  or  the  Andes,  the  Alps  have  more  of  varied 
charm,  and  contain  more  of  mingled  magnificence  and 
loveliness  than  any  other  mountain  chain.  It  would 
lead  me  too  far  afield  to  discuss  the  respective  merits 
of  South  American  and  of  North  American  scenery. 
But  those  who  have  seen  both  will  agree  that  there  is 


278 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


nothing  in  the  Andes  which  better  combines  beauty  with 
majesty  than  the  Yosemite  and  its  sister  canons  in  the 
Sierra  Nevada  of  California,  and  nothing  so  extraor- 
dinary as  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Colorado  River  in 
Arizona. 

It  may  seem  more  natural  to  compare  thq  Andean 
Plateau  with  what  most  nearly  corresponds  to  it  in  North 
America,  the  plateau  of  Anahuac,  in  the  centre  of  which 
he  the  lakes  and  the  city  of  Mexico.  The  northern  parts 
of  that  country  are  for  the  most  part  bare  mountains 
and  barren  desert,  but  on  this  plateau  seven  thousand 
feet  above  sea  level  there  is  rain  enough  to  give  fertile 
fields  and  woods  and  a profusion  of  flowers  upon  the 
hillsides.  There  is  the  brilliant  sunlight  of  the  tropics 
without  their  too  rank  vegetation.  Ranges  of  craggy 
hills  traverse  it,  and  a few  great  snowy  cones,  such  as 
Popocatepetl  and  Citlaltetepl  (near  the  town  of  Orizava), 
rise  in  solitary  grandeur  from  its  surface  to  a height  of 
seventeen  thousand  feet.  The  presence  together  of  all 
these  elements  creates  landscapes  of  surpassing  beauty. 
Even  in  Italy  and  on  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor  I have 
seen  nothing  equal  to  the  views  of  the  plain  and  lakes 
of  Mexico  from  the  castle  of  Chapultepec  and  the  views 
of  the  broad  valley  of  Cuernavaca  either  from  that 
city  or  from  the  heights  around  it.  These  landscapes 
are  not  only  lovely  in  their  combination  of  hill  and  plain, 
of  rock  and  forest,  with  snowclad  summits  closing  the 
distance:  they  are  also  “in  the  grand  style,”  ample 
and  harmonious  landscapes  such  as  one  has  in  the 
greatest  pieces  of  Claude  Lorrain  or  Turner.  Whether 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


279 


there  are  any  equal  to  these  on  the  east  side  of  the 
Andes  I cannot  say.  Those  on  the  west  side  have 
equal  amplitude  and  equal  grandeur,  but  not  such 
finished  beauty. 

Can  a lover  of  nature  in  general  and  of  mountains  in 
particular  be  advised  to  take  the  long  journey  to  western 
South  America  for  the  sake  of  its  scenery  ? If  he  be  a 
mountain  climber  who  enjoys  exploration  and  pants 
for  yet  untrodden  peaks,  he  will  find  an  almost  un- 
touched sphere  for  his  energies,  summits  of  all  degrees 
of  difficulty  from  eighteen  thousand  to  twenty-two 
thousand  feet,  with  the  advantage  of  having  at  certain 
times  of  the  year  uninterruptedly  fine  weather  and  a 
marvellously  clear  air.  If,  not  aiming  so  high,  he 
nevertheless  loves  natural  beauty  enough  not  to  regard 
some  discomforts,  and  if,  having  a sound  heart  and  lungs, 
he  does  not  fear  great  altitudes,  he  will  be  repaid  by 
seeing  something  different  in  kind  from  anything  which 
the  mountains  of  Europe  and  North  America  and  Africa 
have  to  shew,  and  the  like  of  which  can  be  seen  only 
in  the  Himalaya  and  the  even  less  approachable  desert 
ranges  of  central  Asia,  such  as  the  Thian-Shan  and 
Kuen-Lun.  The  Andes  have  a character  that  is  all 
their  own,  while  in  the  temperate  region  of  the  South 
Chilean  Cordillera  one  finds  landscapes  which,  while  not 
so  unlike  as  are  the  Peruvian  to  those  of  western  Europe 
and  the  Pacific  coast  of  North  America,  have  also  a 
charm  peculiar  to  themselves,  which  will  endear  them 
to  the  memory  of  whoever  has  traversed  their  flowery 
forests  and  sailed  upon  their  snow-girt  lakes. 


280 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


NOTE  TO  CHAPTER  VII 

GENERAL  SAN  MARTIN’S  PASSAGE  OF  THE  ANDES 

The  passage  of  the  Andes  by  the  army  of  San  Martin  has  been 
pronounced  by  military  historians  of  authority  to  have  been  one 
of  the  most  remarkable  operations  ever  accomplished  in  mountain 
warfare.  The  forces  which  he  led  were  no  doubt  small  compared 
to  those  which  Suvarof  and  Macdonald  commanded  in  their  famous 
Swiss  campaigns,  and  small  also  when  compared  to  those  which 
Hannibal  and  Napoleon  carried  across  the  Alps.  But  the  valleys 
which  the  two  detachments  of  San  Martin’s  army  had  to  traverse 
lay  in  an  arid  and  practically  uninhabited  region,  and  the  passes 
to  be  crossed  were  much  higher.  This  added  immensely  to  the 
hardships  and  difficulties  of  the  march,  yet  few  men  were  lost. 

San  Martin  divided  his  army  into  two  parts.  The  smaller,  in 
charge  of  Colonel  Las  Heras,  consisted  of  eight  hundred  men,  in- 
cluding two  field  guns  and  a few  cavalry.  It  proceeded  by  the 
Uspallata  Pass,  over  the  Cumbre,  while  the  larger,  under  San  Mar- 
tin himself,  moved  by  the  much  longer  and  colder  though  not  quite 
so  lofty  route  over  the  pass  of  Los  Patos  to  the  north  of  Aconcagua. 
The  rendezvous  was  successfully  effected  at  the  exact  point  chosen 
by  San  Martin,  where  the  two  lines  of  march  down  the  two  valleys  on 
the  Chilean  side  of  the  Cordillera  converge  a little  below  the  village 
of  Santa  Rosa  de  los  Andes,  now  the  terminus  of  the  Trans-Andine 
railway.  San  Martin,  screened  by  the  Andes,  had  from  his  position 
at  Mendoza  so  skilfully  contrived  to  deceive  and  perplex  the  com- 
mander of  the  Spanish  army  in  Chile  as  to  induce  him  to  scatter 
his  greatly  superior  force  over  much  too  long  a line,  so  as  to  guard 
the  various  passes,  all  very  difficult,  which  he  to  the  south  of  the 
Uspallata.  Thus  when  San  Martin,  having  effected  his  own  con- 
centration near  Santa  Rosa,  marched  straight  upon  Santiago,  he 
was  able  to  overpower  the  Spanish  army,  stiff  somewhat  larger 
than  his  own,  when  it  tried  to  bar  his  path  at  Chacabuco.  The 
Spanish  general  fled  to  the  coast,  and  though  some  time  had  yet 
to  pass  before  San  Martin  won  his  decisive  victory  at  Maipo,  and 
before  Lord  Cochrane  drove  the  Spaniards  out  of  their  last  mari- 
time strongholds  at  Corral,  the  crossing  of  the  Andes  was  not  only 


ACROSS  THE  ANDES 


281 


the  most  brilliant  operation  of  the  whole  war,  but  was  also  that 
which  most  contributed  to  the  liberation  of  Chile  and  Peru. 

The  best  account  I have  been  able  to  find  of  this  campaign  is  in 
Mitre’s  elaborate  Historia  de  San  Martin , with  the  accompanying 
volumes  of  Documentos.  The  description  there  given  of  the  cross- 
ing of  the  passes  is,  however,  sadly  wanting  in  topographical  de- 
tails. 

Jose  de  San  Martin,  a strong  and  silent  man,  whose  character 
and  achievements  have  been  little  known  or  appreciated  outside 
his  own  country,  had  learnt  war  under  the  Duke  of  Wellington  in 
Spain.  He  comes  nearer  than  any  one  else  to  being  the  George 
Washington  of  Spanish  America. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN  x 

In  the  annals  of  maritime  discovery  three  great 
voyages  stand  out  as  the  most  daring  in  their  incep- 
tion,. the  most  striking  in  their  incidents,  the  most 
momentous  in  their  results.  They  are  those  of  Colum- 
bus in  1492,  of  Vasco  da  Gama  to  the  coast  of  India 
in  1498,  of  Magellan  in  1519-1522,  and  of  these  three, 
Magellan’s  was  in  some  ways  the  most  wonderful.  It 
was  by  far  the  longest,  and  was  performed  under  hard- 
ships and  sufferings  which  were  absent  from  the  others. 
Vasco  da  Gama  had  a powerful  armament,  could  ob- 
tain pilots,  and  knew  where  he  was  going.  Columbus 
had  a short  and  easy  crossing,  though  it  was  into  an 
unknown  region.  But  Magellan  ventured  down  into 
the  stormiest  seas  of  our  globe,  and  after  he  had  found 
a channel  leading  through  savage  solitudes  to  the  Pacific, 
had  eight  thousand  miles  of  ocean  to  traverse  before  he 
sighted  those  Asiatic  isles  among  which  he  found  his 
fate.  As  the  interest  of  the  Straits,  apart  from  the 
grandeur  of  their  scenery,  lies  largely  in  the  circum- 
stances of  their  discovery  and  the  heroic  character  of 
the  man  who  first  proved  experimentally  (so  to  speak) 
that  our  earth  is  a globe,  a few  lines  may  be  given  to 
some  account  of  his  exploit  before  I describe  the  channel 
itself. 


282 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


283 


Columbus  seems  to  have  set  forth  not  so  much  to 
discover  new  countries  as  to  find  a shorter  way  to 
India  from  the  west  than  that  known  to  exist  via  the 
Red  Sea,1  and  which  Bartholomew  Diaz,  by  passing  the 
Cape  of  Good  Hope,  had  almost  proved  to  exist  round 
Africa.  As  James  Russell  Lowell  happily  said,  “mean- 
ing to  enter  the  back  door  of  the  Old  World,  Columbus 
knocked  at  the  front  door  of  a New  World.”  To  the 
end  of  his  fife,  after  four  voyages,  in  two  of  which  he 
coasted  for  hundreds  of  miles  along  the  shores  of  what 
we  now  call  Central  and  South  America,  he  continued  to 
believe  that  he  had  reached  the  Indies,  though  he  had 
not  been  able  to  hit  upon  any  one  of  the  islands  or  dis- 
tricts supposed  to  exist  there.  When  it  began  to  be 
clear  that  there  were  masses  of  land  extending  a long 
way  to  the  north  and  south  of  the  part  which  Columbus 
had  first  struck,  men  tried  to  find  a way  through  this 
land  by  which  Asia,  still  supposed  to  be  quite  near, 
might  be  reached.  Portuguese  and  Spanish  navigators 
followed  the  coast  of  what  we  call  South  America  a long 
way  to  the  south,  while  others  explored  northwards.  In 
1513  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  crossing  the  Isthmus  of 
Darien,  discovered  the  Pacific  Ocean,  which  he  called  the 
South  Sea;  and  it  began  to  be  conjectured  that  there 
might  well  be  a great  space  of  water  to  be  crossed  be- 
fore India  could  be  reached,  though  nothing  shewed  how 
wide  it  was  or  whether  it  was  anywhere  connected  with 

1 Whether  the  discovery  of  India  was  his  original  aim,  a point  re- 
cently brought  into  question,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  thought  after 
his  first  voyage  that  he  had  found  some  part  of  eastern  Asia. 


284 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  Atlantic.  Six  years  later,  in  15 19, 'Magellan  was 
commissioned  by  Charles,  king  of  Spain  (not  yet 
the  Emperor  Charles  V)  to  try  to  find  a passage  from 
the  Atlantic  into  the  sea  which  washed  eastern  Asia  and 
so  to  reach,  if  possible,  the  rich  Spice  islands  (the  Mo- 
luccas) already  known  to  lie  off  the  Asiatic  coa^t.  He 
sailed  with  three  ships  in  August  of  that  year,  and  began 
his  search  for  a westward  passage  at  the  Rio  de  la  Plata, 
which  had  already  been  reached  (in  1516)  by  Spanish 
sailors.  He  wintered  on  the  coast  of  Patagonia  at  a 
spot  where  Francis  Drake  also  spent  the  winter  fifty- 
eight  years  later,  and  on  the  21st  of  October,  being  the 
day  of  the  Eleven  Thousand  Virgins,  sighted  a low  prom- 
ontory which  he  called  after  those  saints  and  which  is 
still  the  Cape  Virgenes  of  our  charts.  Just  beyond  and 
inside  this  promontory  there  opens  to  the  west  an  inlet 
of  the  sea,  which  he  sent  two  ships  to  explore.  They 
seem,  from  the  description  given  by  Pigafetta,  the  Italian 
chronicler  of  the  expedition,  who  was  on  board,  to  have 
gone  through  two  channels,  now  called  the  First  and  Sec- 
ond Narrows,  into  the  great  piece  of  open  water  oppo- 
site the  place  we  call  Punta  Arenas  (though  possibly  they 
stopped  at  the  entrance  of  the  Second  Narrows),  and  they 
returned  thence  with  an  account  so  favourable  that  Ma- 
gellan entered  the  strait  on  All  Saints  Day  (November  1). 
Had  he  not  found  it,  his  purpose  was  to  sail  on  steadily 
southward  till  he  reached  latitude  7 5°  south . Long  before 
that  he  would  have  been  stopped  by  the  frozen  shores 
of  Graham  Land,  nor  did  any  one  get  down  to  latitude 
75°  till  1823.  He  passed  both  Narrows,  crossed  the 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


285 


open  piece  of  water,  and  then,  halting  at  a point  where 
the  channel  forks,  he  sent  out  two  of  his  ships  to  ex- 
amine the  southeasterly  one  while  he  took  the  south- 
western. Thereafter,  stopping  again,  and  making  a 
pilot  climb  a hill  to  see  if  the  channel  came  to  an  end, 
he  sent  on  boats  to  explore  further.  They  returned — so 
says  Pigafetta 1 — in  three  days  and  reported  that  they 
had  seen  a cape  and  beyond  it  open  sea.  Thereupon 
Magellan  cast  loose  from  the  shore  to  which  he  was 
moored  and  with  two  out  of  his  three  ships  (for  one  of 
those  sent  to  reconnoitre  had  deserted  and  gone  back  to 
Spain)  sailed  out  to  the  west,  and  on  November  28  en- 
tered the  Pacific.  When  he  perceived  that  there  was  a 
vast  sea  before  him,  he  called  the  cape  Deseado  (the  de- 
sired) and  wept  for  joy.  Thence,  turning  first  north  and 
then  northwest,  he  got  into  the  southeast  trade-wind, 
and  sped  along  before  it,  making  from  fifty  to  seventy 
leagues  a day.  Before  this  steady  breeze  he  sailed  for 
three  months  and  twenty  days  over  the  boundless  waste 
of  waters,  his  crews  reduced  to  the  last  extremity  by  fam- 
ine and  scurvy,  till  he  reached  the  Ladrone  Islands. 
“Had  not  God  and  His  Blessed  Mother  given  us  good 
weather,”  says  the  Italian  chronicler,  “ we  should  all 
have  died  of  hunger  in  that  exceeding  vast  sea.  I do 
not  believe  that  any  such  voyage  will  ever  be  made 
again.”  Perhaps  it  was  because  the  subsequent  suffer- 
ings made  their  time  in  the  Straits  seem  agreeable  by 

1 Unless  Magellan  had  got  farther  to  the  west  than  the  rest  of  the 
narrative  would  imply,  three  days  seems  a short  time  for  the  boats 
to  proceed  to  the  western  opening  and  back  again. 


286 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


comparison  that  Pigafetta  has  nothing  but  good  to  say 
of  the  latter.  “There  were,”  he  says,  “safe  ports  every 
half  league,  and  plenty  of  water  and  good  wood.  I do 
not  believe  there  is  a more  beautiful  country  or  a better 
strait  than  that  in  the  world.” 

Sir  Francis  Drake,  whose  passage  of  the  Straits  in 
1578,  on  his  famous  circumnavigation  of  the  globe, 
seems  to  have  been  the  next  recorded  one  after  Ma- 
gellan’s, got  through  in  sixteen  days,  but  encountered 
frightful  weather  when  he  emerged  into  the  Pacific,  which 
drove  him  a long  way  south,  perhaps  nearly  as  far  as 
Cape  Horn.1  The  passage  from  east  to  west  which 
Magellan  and  Drake  took  is  more  impressive  than  that 
from  west  to  east,  because  it  begins  between  low  shores 
in  quiet  and  even  tame  scenery,  which  rises  into  gran- 
deur as  one  approaches  the  Pacific.  We,  however,  had 
to  take  the  Strait  the  opposite  way,  and  so  I will  de- 
scribe it. 

The  last  Chilean  port  at  which  the  ocean-going 
steamers  bound  for  the  Atlantic  call  is  Lota,  near  Talca- 
huano,  of  which  I have  already  spoken  (see  page  227). 
From  this  it  is  a voyage  of  three  days  to  the  west 
end  of  the  Strait.  The  steamer  keeps  so  far  out  that 
in  the  cloudy  weather  which  usually  prevails  it  is  only 
at  intervals  that  one  can  see  the  lofty  hills.  This  is  one 
of  the  wettest  and  windiest  parts  of  the  Pacific,  and  it 
is  in  this  region,  between  latitude  45°  south  and  Cape 
Horn,  that  seas  heavier  than  elsewhere  in  the  world 
are  apt  to  be  encountered.  We  had  the  usual  weather, 

1 Cape  Horn  was  discovered  in  1616  by  Van  Schouten  and  Le 
Maire  sailing  from  the  East. 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


287 


cold  and  wet,  with  a southwest  wind  which  some- 
times rose  to  three-quarters  of  a gale.  It  is,  however, 
a good  rule  to  keep  the  deck  whenever  you  can  do  so 
without  the  risk  of  being  drenched  or  perhaps  knocked 
down  and  swept  along  by  a wave  coming  on  board; 
and  the  want  of  anything  else  to  occupy  the  eyes  was 
compensated  by  the  delight  of  watching  the  flocks  of 
sea-birds  which  followed  and  circled  round  the  ship 
day  after  day.  Chief  among  them  was  the  albatross, 
whose  aspect  is  that  of  a gigantic  gull.  There  were 
usually  two  or  three,  and,  as  has  often  been  observed, 
they  seemed  scarcely  to  move  their  wings,  but  to  float 
along,  rising  and  falling  without  effort  and  often  mov- 
ing faster  than  the  ship,  of  which  they  usually  kept 
astern.  Steady  as  was  their  flight,  it  would  have 
needed  a good  marksman  to  hit  one  with  a cross-bow, 
had  such  a weapon  been  by  ill  luck  on  board.  Among 
the  other  birds,  — there  were  at  least  forty  or  fifty 
playing  round  the  ship,  but  it  was  impossible  to  count 
them  accurately,  — the  largest  was  the  giant  petrel 
or  “bone  breaker,”  which  somewhat  resembles  an 
albatross,  save  that  he  is  dark,  and  the  handsomest 
was  the  so-called  Cape  pigeon.  He  is  bigger  than  a 
pigeon  and  no  more  like  one  than  is  implied  by  the  fact 
that  he  is  more  like  a pigeon  than  a gull.  The  grace 
of  his  circling  flight,  and  the  black  or  dark  brown 
spots  on  the  dazzling  white  of  his  wings,  made  it  a 
constant  pleasure  to  watch  him,  but  it  was  hard  either 
to  follow  the  course  of  any  particular  bird  or  to  be 
sure  that  our  count  of  the  spots  was  correct.  When 


288 


' SOUTH  AMERICA 


any  remains  of  food  were  thrown  overboard,  the  whole 
swarm  darted  at  once  upon  it,  fluttering  and  clutter- 
ing together  on  the  surface  of  the  sea,  with  much  splash- 
ing and  jostling,  but  never,  so  far  as  we  could  observe, 
fighting  with  one  another.  Even  the  great  albatross  did 
not  seem  to  abuse  his  strength  against  the  Cape  pigeon. 
When  they  had  seized  what  they  could,  all  easily  over- 
took the  ship,  though  by  that  time  perhaps  two  or 
three  hundred  yards  away.  The  dulness  of  three 
tempestuous  days  under  gloomy  skies  was  redeemed 
by  the  joy  of  watching  these  beautiful  creatures,  happy 
in  having  their  lot  cast  on  a wild  and  lonely  coast, 
where  they  are  safe  from  the  predatory  instincts  of  man. 

This  long  fine  of  islands,  stretching  along  the  coast 
from  Chiloe  seven  hundred  miles  to  the  opening  of 
the  Straits,  is  practically  uninhabited,  though  a few 
wretched  Indians  wandering  about  in  canoes  support 
fife  by  fishing.  Between  the  isles  and  the  mainland  is 
a labyrinth  of  sounds  and  bays  studded  with  other 
islands,  great  and  small,  all  covered  with  wood  so  close 
and  thick  as  to  be  almost  impenetrable.  The  scenery, 
especially  towards  the  south  in  the  long  inland  sea 
called  Smyth’s  Channel,  has  excited  the  admiration  of 
those  few  travellers  who  have  been  fortunate  enough 
to  see  it.  This  we  had  hoped  to  do,  but  found  that  the 
German  steamers  which  used  to  take  the  route  through 
these  channels  into  the  Straits  had  ceased  to  do  so 
on  account  of  the  dangers  of  the  navigation,  there  being 
so  much  fog  and  rain,  such  strong  and  uncertain  cur- 
rents, and  so  many  sunken  rocks  that  even  with  the  help 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


289 


of  the  charts  which  the  British  Admiralty  has  published, 
it  is  hazardous  to  move  except  in  broad  daylight.  Light- 
houses there  are  none.  One  line  of  small  steamers  does 
run  from  Punta  Arenas  in  the  Straits  through  the  chan- 
nels up  to  the  south  Chilean  ports,  but  to  have  waited 
for  a boat  of  this  line  would  have  involved  a month’s 
delay,  so  we  had  to  comfort  ourselves  by  reflecting 
that  had  we  been  able  to  catch  a vessel  traversing  this 
fairyland  of  wood  and  water  and  snowpeaks  rising  above 
land-locked  fjords,  still  the  chances  of  weather  good 
enough  to  enable  it  to  be  seen  and  enjoyed  would  have 
been  slender.  For  a description  of  it  the  reader  may 
be  referred  to  the  book  of  Mr.  Ball.1  Were  it  not  so  far 
from  the  countries  where  rich  men  own  yachts,  it 
would  be  a superb  yachting  ground  for  those  who  could 
spare  the  time  to  explore  its  recesses,  moving  only  by 
day,  and  with  unceasing  circumspection. 

Among  the  headlands  which  we  saw  along  this  stern 
and  lofty  coast,  two  were  especially  striking  from  their 
height  and  form.  One  is  called  Tres  Montes.  Heavy 
clouds  hid  its  top,  but  two  thousand  feet  were  visible 
of  the  steep  face  that  rose  above  the  sea.  Further 
south  the  huge  tabular  mass  of  Cape  St.  George,  grand 
and  grey  in  its  drapery  of  mists,  looked  out  over  bil- 
lows, the  spray  of  whose  crests  as  they  broke  upon  the 
rocks  could  be  seen  fifteen  miles  away.  There  is  not 
in  the  world  a coast  more  terrible  than  this.  No  hope 
for  a ship  driven  in  against  it  by  the  strong  currents 
and  the  resistless  western  swell.  Still  further  south, 

1 Notes  of  a Naturalist  in  South  America. 

U 


290 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


on  the  fourth  day  of  our  voyage,  after  a night  in  which 
the  vessel,  steady  sea  boat  as  she  was,  rolled  so  heavily 
that  it  was  hard  to  avoid  being  pitched  out  of  one’s  berth, 
we  reached  a group  of  high  rocky  islands,  called  the 
Evangelists,  — they  seem  from  a distance  to  be  four, 
but  are  really  five,  — on  which  the  Chilean  government 
has  lately,  in  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  landing  in  an 
always  troubled  sea,  erected  a lighthouse.  Its  fight, 
190  feet  high,  is  visible  for  thirty  miles,  and  was 
greatly  needed,  for  vessels  found  it  hard  in  the 
thick  weather  that  is  frequent  here  to  make  the 
entrance  to  the  Straits.  The  group  is  conspicuous 
by  a hole  through  one  of  the  highest  cliffs,  and  a long 
curved  and  contorted  stratum  of  white  quartz  along 
the  face  of  another.  Not  even  on  the  coast  of  Norway 
can  I remember  anything  grander  than  this  wild 
sea,  flashing  and  seething  round  these  lonely  isles. 
No  other  land  was  in  sight,  though  the  blackness  of  a 
distant  cloud  shewed  that  there  were  hills  behind 
it.  An  hour  and  a half  later  there  loomed  up  in 
the  south,  through  driving  rain-clouds,  a dark  mass 
which  presently  revealed  itself  as  a tower  of  rock 
springing  out  of  the  sea,  with  crag  rising  above 
crag  to  a lofty  peak  behind.  This  rock  tower — Cape 
Pilar  — marks  the  entrance  to  the  Straits.  Beyond 
it  an  ironbound  coast  runs  down  four  hundred  miles 
southeast  to  Cape  Horn.  It  is  a coast  which  ships 
seldom  see,  for  steamers,  of  course,  prefer  the  Straits ; 
and  the  very  few  sailing  vessels  that  still  come  round 
this  way  to  the  Atlantic  from  San  Francisco  or  Val- 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


291 


paraiso  or  Australia  give  a wide  berth  to  these  savage 
and  storm-swept  shores.  When  we  had  gone  some  ten 
miles  further,  the  steamer  turned  her  course  eastward, 
and  entered  the  opening,  about  fifteen  miles  wide,  be- 
tween Cape  Pilar  on  the  south  and  Cape  Formosa  on 
the  north.  We  were  now  on  the  track  of  Magellan,  for 
Pilar  is  the  cape  which  he  saw  and  named  the  Desired 
Cape  (Cabo  Deseado)  when  the  seaway  opening  to  the 
west  assured  him  that  the  ocean  he  was  seeking  had 
been  found.  Standing  high  on  the  bow  of  our  ship  and 
looking  along  it  as  it  plunged  in  the  great  rollers,  how 
small  this  ocean  steamer  seemed  compared  to  the  vast 
landscape  around.  Yet  how  much  tinier  were  the  two 
vessels  with  which  Magellan  ventured  out  into  the  bil- 
lows of  an  unknown  sea. 

Before  us  the  inlet  narrowed  to  a point  scarcely 
seen  in  the  vaporous  haze.  To  the  south  the  bare 
peaks  of  Desolation  Island,  beginning  from  Cape  Pilar, 
rose  with  terrific  boldness,  unscaleable  shafts  and  tow- 
ers of  rock  that  recalled  the  shapes  of  the  Coolin  hills 
in  Skye  or  the  still  loftier  summits  of  the  Lofoten  Isles 
in  Norway.  To  the  north  a mysterious  fringe  of 
islands  and  foam-girt  reefs,  grey  and  dim  among  their 
mists,  hid  the  entrance  to  Smyth’s  Channel  and  the 
labyrinth  of  ahnost  unexplored  sounds  and  inlets  along 
the  Chilean  coast  beyond.  Behind  us  the  sun,  now 
near  his  setting,  threw  from  among  the  scattering  clouds 
a flood  of  yellow  light  over  the  white-topped  surges  that 
were  racing  in  our  wake.  One  thought  of  Magellan’s 
tears  of  joy  when  these  long  surges  on  which  his  little 


292 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


vessel  rose  told  him  that  here  at  last  was  that  ocean  he 
had  set  forth  to  find  and  over  which  lay  the  path  of 
glory  that  for  him  led  only  to  the  grave.  Such  a 
moment  was  worth  a lifetime. 

As  our  ship  passed  further  and  further  in  between 
the  narrowing  shores,  the  birds  began  to  drop  away 
from  us,  first  the  great  albatross,  which  loves  the  open 
sea,  and  then  the  smaller  kinds.  So,  too,  the  billows 
slowly  subsided,  though  the  wdnd  was  still  strong  and 
the  water  still  deep  and  the  sea  wide  open  behind  us, 
until  when  we  had  gone  some  fifteen  miles  beyond  Cape 
Pilar  the  ocean  swell  was  scarcely  perceptible. 

Among  the  isles  on  the  north  side  of  the  Strait  the 
most  conspicuous  is  that  to  which,  from  its  high-gabled 
central  ridge,  the  name  of  Westminster  Hall  has  been 
given.  It  seemed  strange  to  find  in  this  remote  region 
nearly  all  the  headlands,  bays,  and  channels  bearing 
English  names,  but  the  explanation  is  simple.  As 
there  were  no  native  names  at  all,  the  Fuegians  not  hav- 
ing reached  that  grade  of  civilization  in  which  distinc- 
tive proper  names  are  given  to  places,  and  extremely  few 
Spanish  names,  because  the  colonial  government  never 
surveyed  the  Straits  and  few  colonial  vessels  entered 
them,  the  British  naval  officers  who  did  their  hydro- 
graphic  work  in  and  around  the  Fuegian  archipelago 
were  obliged  to  find  names.  Like  Cook  and  Van- 
couver in  the  north  Pacific  they  bestowed  upon  places 
the  names  of  their  ships,  or  of  their  brother  seamen,  or  of 
persons  connected  with  the  British  Admiralty  at  home. 
Hence  Smyth’s  Channel  and  Cockburn  Channel  and 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


293 


Croker  Peninsula  and  Beagle  Sound  and  Cape  Fitzroy 
and  Fury  Island  and  Mount  Darwin.  The  Dutch  cap- 
tains, sea-rovers  or  whalers,  have  contributed  other 
names,  such  as  Barnevelt  Island  and  Staten  Island  and 
Nassau  Bay  and  Cape  Horn  itself.  Thus  a chart  has 
here  the  sort  of  historic  interest  which  the  plan  of  an 
old  city  has,  where  the  names  of  streets  and  squares  speak 
of  the  persons  who  were  famous  when  each  was  built, 
like  Queen  Anne  Street  and  Harley  Street  and  Wel- 
lington Street  in  London,  or  the  list  of  Napoleonic 
victories  which  one  has  in  the  street  names  of  Paris. 

The  Admiralty  surveys  have  also  named  the  different 
parts  of  the  long  line  of  the  Straits.  First  comes, 
beginning  from  the  westward,  Sea  Reach,  which,  nar- 
rowing gradually  till  it  is  about  four  miles  wide,  has 
a length  of  about  thirty  miles;  then  Long  Reach, thirty- 
five  miles  long,  and  averaging  two  to  three  miles  wide; 
then  the  shorter,  and  in  parts  narrower,  Crooked 
Reach,  and  English  Reach,  which  brings  one  to  Cape 
Froward,  nearly  halfway  to  the  Atlantic.  Darkness 
fell  before  we  came  to  the  end  of  Sea  Reach,  and  we 
had  our  last  view  of  the  range  of  formidable  pinnacles 
and  precipices  which,  beginning  from  Cape  Pilar,  run 
along  the  shore  of  Desolation  Island,  the  northernmost 
of  the  mountainous  isles  that  lie  between  the  Straits 
and  Cape  Horn.  It  is  separated  from  the  two  isles 
next  to  it  on  the  southeast  by  channels  so  narrow  that 
the  three  were  long  supposed  to  form  one  island.  The 
peaks,  some  of  them  apparently  inaccessible,  are 
of  bare  rock  and  run  up  to  four  thousand  feet.  On 


294 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  slopes  near  the  shore  there  is  a little  short  grass, 
but  no  wood,  so  violent  and  unceasing  are  the  wrinds. 
The  sea  was  absolutely  solitary.  For  three  days  we  had 
seen  no  ship.  Formerly  a few  Fuegians  in  their  canoes 
haunted  these  shores,  but  they  now  come  no  longer. 
Scattered  remnants  of  their  small  tribes,  Yahggns  and 
Alakalufs,  wander  along  the  shores  of  the  more  south- 
erly islands,  supporting  existence  on  shell-fish  and 
wild  berries.  With  the  exception  of  the  now  all  but 
extinct  Bushmen  of  South  Africa  and  the  Veddas  of 
Ceylon,  they  are  the  lowest  kind  of  savage  known  to 
exist,  going  almost  or  quite  naked,  rigorous  as  is  the 
climate,  possessing  no  dwellings,  and  having  learned 
from  civilized  man  nothing  except  a passion  for  to- 
bacco. There  are  missionaries  at  work  among  them 
who  have  done  what  can  be  done  to  ameliorate  their 
lot,  which  would  be  even  more  wretched  if  they  knew 
it  to  be  wretched.  They  would  appear,  from  the  vast 
remains  of  their  ancient  middens,  to  have  inhabited  these 
inhospitable  regions  for  untold  ages,  and  their  low  state 
contrasts  remarkably  with  the  superior  intelligence 
and  the  progress  in  some  of  the  arts  of  life  which  mark 
the  Lapps  and  Esquimaux  and  other  barbarous  tribes 
of  regions  far  nearer  to  the  North  Pole  than  this  is  to  the 
South.  The  contrast  may  possibly  be  due  to  the  greater 
scarcity  of  wild  creatures  both  on  land  and  sea  in  this 
extremity  of  South  America.1  Here  are  no  bears,  black 

1 It  is  hardly  necessary  to  refer  for  information  regarding  the 
Fuegians  to  the  classic  book  of  Charles  Darwin,  the  Voyage  of  the 
Beagle,  in  which  the  genius  for  observation  and  speculation  of  that 
great  man  was  first  made  known  to  the  world. 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


295 


or  brown  or  polar,  and  no  creature  like  the  reindeer  of 
Lapland,  and  no  musk-ox;  nor  has  the  dog  ever  been 
harnessed. 

Next  morning  we  were  up  on  the  bridge  beside 
our  friendly  captain  at  the  first  glimmer  of  dawn. 
The  vessel,  going  at  half  speed  during  the  night,  had 
covered  no  great  distance,  but  the  character  of  the 
scenery  had  already  changed.  Here  in  Long  Reach 
the  Strait  was  only  three  miles  wide.  The  spiry  pin- 
nacles of  Desolation  Island  had  been  replaced  by 
mountains  nearly  or  quite  as  high,  but  of  more  rounded 
forms,  their  faces  breaking  down  sometimes  in  cliffs, 
but  more  frequently  in  steep,  bare  slopes  of  rock  to 
the  deep  waters,  their  glens  filled  with  blue  glaciers, 
which  sometimes  came  within  two  hundred  yards  of 
the  sea,  their  upper  slopes  covered  with  snow  or  neve, 
which  seemed  to  form  vast  ice  fields  stretching  far 
back  inland.  Clouds  lay  heavy  on  these  snows,  so 
only  here  and  there  could  one  discern  the  outlines  of 
a peak,  and  conjecture  its  height.  The  tops  seemed  to 
average  from  twenty-five  hundred  to  four  thousand 
feet,  and  the  level  of  the  line  of  perpetual  snow  to  be 
somewhat  over  three  thousand  feet,  varying  according  to 
the  exposure,  the  line  being,  of  course,  a little  higher  on 
the  south  side,  whose  slopes  face  the  north.  On  the  lower 
declivities  towards  the  sea  there  was  now  some  grass, 
and  in  sheltered  places,  such  as  the  heads  of  inlets,  a 
little  thick,  low  scrub  of  trees,  probably  of  the  two 
Antarctic  beeches,1  which  are  here  the  commonest  trees. 

1 Fagus  (or  Nothofagus ) betuloides,  or  Fagus  antarctica. 


296 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


What  most  struck  us  was  the  similarity  of  the  mountain 
lines  and  their  general  character  to  those  of  the  extreme 
north  of  Norway,  between  Tromso  and  the  North  Cape. 
Everything  seemed  to  point  to  an  epoch  when  the 
glaciers,  formerly  more  extensive  than  now,  rounded  off 
the  tops  of  the  ridges,  and  smoothed  the  surfaces,  just 
Las  one  finds  them  rounded  and  smoothed  along  the 
Lyngen  fjord  on  this  side  the  North  Cape.  It  is  also 
natural  to  suppose  that  rain  and  wind,  which  seem  to 
be  less  copious  and  less  violent  in  this  part  of  the 
Straits  than  at  their  western  opening,  have  done  less 
here  than  they  do  there  to  carve  the  peaks  into  sharp 
spires  and  jagged  precipices. 

The  day,  when  it  came,  was  dark,  for  a grey  pall 
of  cloud  covered  sea  and  mountains;  but  as  this  was  the 
usual  weather,  and  suited  the  sternness  of  the  land- 
scape, we  regretted  only  the  impossibility  of  seeing  the 
tops  of  the  highest  hills  that  rose  out  of  the  undulating 
snow  plateau  which  lies  back  from  the  shores.  Very 
solemn  was  this  long,  slightly  winding  channel,  deep  and 
smooth,  broken  rarely  by  an  island  or  a rock,  but  now 
and  then  shewing  a seductive  little  bay  with  a patch  of 
green.  Sometimes  in  a glen  running  back  to  the  foot  of 
a glacier  one  caught  the  white  flash  of  a waterfall. 
The  remarkable  purity  of  the  ice  and  smallness  of  the 
moraines  may  be  attributed  to  the  fact  that  the  glaciers 
seemed  to  be  seldom  overhung  by  cliffs  whence  stone 
would  fall,  and  that  the  rocks  were  evidently  extremely 
hard.  They  seemed  to  belong  to  the  ancient  crystalline 
group,  granite  and  gneiss  or  mica  schist,  with  masses  of 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


297 


white  quartz,  shewing  no  trace  anywhere  of  volcanic 
action.  This  region  on  both  sides  of  the  Straits  may 
be  a prolongation  not  of  the  great  Andean  Cordillera, 
but  of  the  Coast  Range  of  Chile,  which  (as  already 
observed)  mostly  consists  of  those  older  rocks  which 
I have  just  mentioned. 

At  Crooked  Reach  the  view,  looking  back  westward, 
was  specially  noble.  On  a green  slope  above  a sheltered 
inlet  upon  the  south  side  are  a few  houses,  the  melan- 
choly remains  of  a Swiss  colony,  founded  some  twenty 
years  ago,  which  failed  to  support  itself  in  this  inclement 
nature.  Behind  there  was  a long  curtain-like  line  of 
snows.  On  the  north  two  or  three  small  isles  fringed 
the  steep  rocky  shore  with  a background  of  peaks 
dimly  seen  through  drifting  snow  showers.  In  the 
middle  the  eye  rested  on  the  smooth,  grey-blue  surface 
of  the  great  waterway,  here  only  a mile  wide,  dark 
as  the  clouds  above  and  darker  still  in  spots  where  a 
gust  from  the  hill  fell  upon  it,  silent  as  when  Magel- 
lan’s prow  first  clove  it.  For  steam  vessels  the  naviga- 
tion is  not  dangerous,  since,  though  there  are  in  this 
narrow  part  no  lights,  there  are  few  sunken  rocks. 
A rock  is  always  indicated  by  the  masses  of  very  long, 
yellowish  brown  seaweed  which  root  on  it  and  wave  in 
the  tide.  But  squalls  or  williwaws  (as  they  are  called) 
come  down  from  the  glens  with  terrific  suddenness,  and 
the  water  is  so  deep  that  it  is  often  hard  to  anchor,  or 
to  keep  the  ship,  if  anchored,  from  dragging.  Magellan 
moored  his  vessels  to  the  shore  every  night.  How  did 
he  manage  to  get  through  so  quickly,  against  the  pre- 


298 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


vailing  west  winds,  by  tacking  in  a channel  so  narrow, 
especially  as  in  those  days  mariners  could  not  sail  so 
near  the  wind  as  we  do?  Perhaps  he  may  have  made 
much  use  of  the  tide,  mooring  when  it  was  against  him 
and  pushing  ahead  when  the  ebb  set  out  to  the  Pacific. 
The  tide  flow  is,  however,  not  so  strong  here  as  is  that 
winch  enters  on  the  Atlantic  side,  and  it  there  rises  to  a 
much  greater  height. 

About  this  point  another  change  comes  over  the 
scenery.  There  begins  to  be  more  wood,  and  though 
it  is  still  stunted,  one  notes  patches  of  it  up  to 

rtr 

eight  hundred  feet.  On  the  north  shore  more  recent 
sedimentary  strata,  apparently  of  sandstone  and  lime- 
stone, replace  the  gneiss,  and  a growth  of  herbaceous 
plants  and  ferns  drapes  the  face  of  the  cliffs.  Then 
at  the  end  of  English  Reach  rises  a bold  headland, 
Cape  Froward,  twelve  hundred  feet  high,  projecting 
from  the  much  loftier  Mount  Victoria  behind.  It  marks 
the  southernmost  extremity  of  the  South  American 
Continent  in  latitude  52°.  Here  the  coast-fine,  which 
had  been  running  in  a generally  east  southeasterly 
direction  all  the  way  from  the  Pacific,  turns  sharply 
to  the  north,  and  in  a few  miles  a new  scene  is  disclosed. 
The  Strait  widens  out,  an  open  expanse  of  water 
is  seen  to  the  northeast  with  a low  shore  scarcely 
visible  behind  it ; and  to  the  south,  nearly  opposite 
Cape  Froward,  a channel  diverges  to  the  southeast  be- 
tween high  mountains  on  its  west  side  and  lower  hills  on 
the  east.  This  is  the  north  end  of  Cockburn  Channel, 
which,  after  many  windings  among  islands,  opens  out 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


299 


southwestward  into  the  Pacific,  and  this  seems  to  be 
the  place  where  Magellan  halted,  sending  out  the  two 
ships  — one  of  which  deserted  him  — to  explore  the 
southeastward  channel.  Looking  up  it  one  can  see 
in  clear  weather,  some  forty  miles  away,  the  peak  of 
Sarmiento,  highest  of  all  the  mountains  of  this  re- 
gion, a double  pyramid  of  rock  peaks  rising  out  of 
snow.  It  is  of  old  crystalline  rock  and  is  described  as 
by  far  the  most  striking  object  in  all  the  Magellanic 
landscapes.  Thick  clouds  hid  it  from  our  longing  eyes. 
Its  height  is  estimated  at  six  thousand  feet,  and  so 
far  as  I know  it  has  never  been  ascended.  That  daunt- 
less climber,  Sir  Martin  Conway,  who  got  nearer  to 
its  top  than  any  one  else  has  ever  done,  was  turned 
back  by  a frightful  tempest  below  the  last  rock  peak. 

East  of  Cape  Froward,  one  is  at  once  in  a different 
region  with  a different  climate.  The  air  is  drier  and 
clearer.  The  shores  are  lower,  the  wood,  still  mostly 
of  the  Antarctic  beech,  is  thicker,  with  many  dead 
white  trunks  which  take  fire  easily.  The  hills  recede 
from  the  sea,  and  grow  smoother  in  outline,  finally 
disposing  themselves  in  low  flat-topped  ridges,  six  or 
eight  miles  behind  the  shore-line.  A wide  expanse  of 
water,  and  of  land  almost  as  level  as  the  water,  stretches 
out  to  the  eastern  horizon,  so  that  at  first  one  fancies 
that  this  apparently  shoreless  sea  is  part  of  the  Atlantic, 
which  is  in  fact  still  nearly  a hundred  miles  away.  Signs 
of  civilization  appear  in  a lighthouse  at  San  Isidro, 
and  near  it  at  a small  harbour  on  the  mainland  to  which 
a few  whalers  resort,  boiling  down  into  oil  the  produce 


300 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  their  catch.  Presently  the  masts  and  funnels  of 
vessels  lying  off  shore  at  anchor  rise  out  of  the  sea,  and 
we  heave  to  and  disembark  at  the  little  town  of  Punta 
Arenas  on  the  Patagonian  coast,  which  English-speaking 
men  call  Sandy  Point.  This  is  the  southernmost  town 
not  only  in  Chile,  but  in  the  whole  world,  twenty 
degrees  further  from  the  South  Pole  than  Hammerfest, 
an  older  and  larger  place,  is  from  the  North  Pole. 
It  consists  of  about  six  very  wide  streets,  only  par- 
tially built  up,  running  parallel  to  the  shore,  which 
are  crossed  at  right  angles  by  as  many  other  similar 
streets,  running  up  the  hill,  the  houses  low,  many  of 
them  built,  and  nearly  all  of  them  roofed,  with  corru- 
gated iron.  It  has,  therefore,  no  beauty  at  all  except 
what  is  given  by  its  wide  view  of  the  open  sea  basin 
of  the  Strait,  here  twenty  miles  wide,  and  beyond  over 
the  plains  of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  the  great  island  which  lies 
opposite.  In  the  far  distance  mountains  can  in  clear 
weather  be  seen  in  the  south  of  that  island,  Mount 
Sarmiento  conspicuous  among  them. 

Punta  Arenas  was  for  many  years  only  a place  of 
call  for  whalers,  since  hardly  any  trading  vessels  passed 
through  the  Straits  before  the  days  of  steam,  and  there- 
after for  a while  a Chilean  penal  settlement.  It  grew 
by  degrees  and  has  profited  by  the  discovery  of  lignite 
coal  in  its  neighbourhood,  though  the  seam  is  small  and 
of  poor  quality ; and  within  the  last  twenty  years  it  has 
increased  and  thriven  because  sheep  farming  has  been 
started  on  an  extensive  scale  on  the  mainland  of  Pata- 
gonia as  well  as  in  Tierra  del  Fuego  and  some  of  the 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


301 


adjoining  islands.  All  the  sheep  ranchmen  within  a 
range  exceeding  several  days’  journey  come  here  for 
their  supplies  and  all  ship  their  wool  from  here,  so  it 
can  now  boast  to  be  the  leading  commercial  centre  of 
the  region,  having  no  rival  within  a thousand  miles. 
Whether  it  can  develop  much  further  may  be  doubtful, 
for  traffic  through  the  Straits  will  not  greatly  increase 
against  the  competition  of  the  Trans-Andine  railway 
for  passengers  and  that  of  the  Panama  Canal  for  goods, 
and  most  of  the  land  fit  for  sheep  farming  has  been  al- 
ready taken  up.  Neither  the  whale  fishery  nor  sealing 
is  now  prosecuted  on  a large  scale. 

The  town  is  a cosmopolitan  place,  in  which  English, 
as  well  as  Spanish  and  to  a less  extent  German  (for  the 
steamers  of  a well-appointed  German  line  call  frequently), 
is  spoken ; people  engaged  in  the  sheep  trade  come  and 
go  from  the  Falkland  Islands,  and  the  ocean  liners 
keep  it  in  touch  with  the  distant  world  of  Valparaiso 
and  Buenos  Aires  and  Europe.  It  is  the  same  dis- 
tance to  the  south  of  the  Equator  as  the  Straits  of 
Belleisle  in  Labrador  is  to  the  north,  but  the  climate  here 
is  far  more  equable.  It  is  never  warm,  but  the  winters 
are  not  severe,  there  is  little  snow,  and  frosts  are  mod- 
erated by  the  adjoining  sea.  The  air  is  dry  and  healthy 
with  a rainfall  of  only  ten  inches  in  the  year.  Though 
the  landscape  is  bare,  for  trees  can  with  difficulty  be 
induced  to  grow,  and  though  there  is  much  wind  and 
no  shelter,  still  we  found  something  attractive  in  this 
remote  and  singular  spot,  for  one  has  a constantly 
stimulative  sense  of  the  vast  expanse  of  sky  and  sea 


302 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  the  distant  plain  of  Tierra  del  Fuego,  with  a 
touch  of  mystery  in  the  still  more  distant  ranges  of 
that  island  which  just  shew  their  snowy  peaks  on  the 
horizon.  The  light  over  sea  and  shore  has  an  exqui- 
site pearly  clearness  which  reminds  one  of  the  similar 
light  that  floats  over  the  lagoons  between  Venice  and 
Aquileia.  Can  this  peculiar  quality  in  the  atmosphere 
be  due,  here  as  there,  to  the  presence  of  a large  body 
of  comparatively  smooth  and  shallow  water,  mirroring 
back  to  heaven  the  light  that  it  receives  ? 

Tierra  del  Fuego,  which  one  had  been  wont  to  think 
of  as  a land  of  dense  forests  and  wild  mountains,  is,  as 
seen  from  Punta  Arenas,  and  all  along  the  eastern  part 
of  the  Straits  from  this  point  to  the  Atlantic,  a fea- 
tureless level.  Its  northern  part  is  flat,  like  the  Pat- 
agonian mainland,  which  is  itself  the  southernmost 
part  of  the  great  Argentine  plain.  Some  parts  are 
arid,  but  most  of  it  is  well  grassed,  excellent  for  sheep. 
Only  in  the  far  south  are  there  mountains,  the  eastern 
prolongation  of  the  range  that  runs  (interrupted  by 
channels  between  the  isles)  southeast  from  Cape  Pilar. 
Neither  along  the  shores  of  the  Strait  nor  in  those  south- 
ern mountains  are  there  any  signs  of  volcanic  action, 
but  I was  told  that  such  evidences  do  exist  at  the  ex- 
treme eastern  end  of  the  island,  and  there  are  in  the 
Patagonian  mainland,  a little  way  north  of  the  Straits, 
a large  crater  and  a lava  stream  eighteen  miles  in 
length,  the  last  manifestations  to  the  south  of  those 
volcanic  forces  which  are  visible  along  the  whole  line 
of  the  Andes  northward  to  Panama.  Both  in  Tierra 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


303 


del  Fuego  and  on  the  mainland  there  are  left  a few 
Patagonian  aborigines.  Those  who  dwell  in  the  island 
are  of  the  Ona  tribe,  tall  men  who,  like  the  Tehuelches 
that  roam  over  the  mainland,  answer  to  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  Patagonian  giants  given  by  the  early  Span- 
ish and  English  navigators.  Pigafetta  relates  that 
when  Magellan’s  men  had,  near  Port  St.  Julian,  where 
he  wintered,  guilefully  entrapped  and  fettered  one 
of  these  giants,  he  cried  out  on  Setebos  to  aid  him, 
“that  is,”  says  Pigafetta,  “the  big  devil”  ( il  gran 
demonio).  Shakespeare  would  seem  to  have  taken 
from  this  account,  through  Eden’s  Decades  of  the 
New  World,  the  Setebos  whom  Caliban  names  as  “his 
dam’s  god”  in  the  Tempest } The  Onas  who  used  to 
come  down  to  Punta  Arenas  to  sell  guanaco  skins  and 
obtain  ardent  spirits,  are  now  seldom  seen.  Strong 
liquor  was  too  much  for  them,  as  it  was  for  Caliban, 
and  has  reduced  their  numbers.  It  is  curious  that  the 
far  more  abject  Fuegians,  who  love  tobacco,  detest 


1 He  is  called  Settaboth  in  the  record  of  Sir  Francis  Drake’s 
voyage  ( The  World  Encompassed,  p.  487,  Hakluyt  Society  Edition). 
(I  take  this  reference  from  Robertson’s  edition  of  Pigafetta.) 
“ Sycorax  my  dam,”  “the  foul  witch  Sycorax,”  does  not  appear  in 
Pigafetta,  and  comes  from  somewhere  else  : the  name  sounds  Greek. 
As  to  Caliban  and  the  Patagonians,  see  the  notes  to  Dr.  H.  H. 
Furness’s  monumental  edition  of  the  Tempest,  p.  379.  Every  one 
remembers  Robert  Browning’s  Caliban  upon  Setebos,  or  Natural 
Theology  in  the  Island.  The  Settaboth  mentioned  in  Drake’s  voyage 
is  probably  a mere  repetition  from  Eden,  for  the  Indians  to  whom 
Fletcher  (in  narrating  that  voyage)  refers  were  encountered  on  the 
Chilean  coast  in  lat.  38°  S.,  a different  set  of  people  altogether. 
Fletcher’s  account  is  in  many  points  hardly  credible.  See  Barrow’s 
Life  of  Sir  Francis  Drake,  p.  121. 


304 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


intoxicating  liquors.  But  the  chief  calamity  that 
befell  this  interesting  tribe  was  the  discovery  that  the 
more  level  parts  of  Tierra  del  Fuego  are  fit  for  sheep. 
The  ranchmen  drove  off  the  Onas  : the  Onas  retaliated 
by  stealing  the  sheep  and  when  they  got  a chance,  shoot- 
ing the  ranchmen  with  arrows,  for  they  have  scarcely 
any  firearms.  The  ranchmen  then  took  to  shooting 
the  Onas  at  sight,  so  that  now,  out  of  three  thousand 
who  used  to  inhabit  Tierra  del  Fuego,  there  are  said 
to  remain  only  three  hundred,  defending  themselves 
in  the  recesses  of  the  wooded  mountains  in  the  ex- 
treme south  of  the  island.  They  are  manly  fellows 
of  great  strength  and  courage,  and  go  about  clothed 
only  with  a guanaco  skin.  Few  guanacos  are  now  left, 
for  they  also  have  had  to  make  way  for  the  sheep.1 

After  midnight  the  steamer  left  Punta  Arenas  for 
the  Atlantic.  Rising  at  daybreak  I saw  the  eastern 
half  of  the  Straits,  than  which  nothing  could  be  less  like 
the  western  half.  After  traversing  for  some  distance 
the  wide  basin  between  the  mainland  and  Tierra  del 
Fuego,  on  the  west  shore  of  which  Punta  Arenas  stands, 
we  reached  the  part  of  the  Strait  called  the  Second 
Narrows,  where  the  passage,  between  low  bluffs  of  hard 
earth  on  each  side,  is  only  a few  miles  wide,  and  then 
emerged  from  this  into  another  large  basin.  Twenty 
miles  further  come  the  First  Narrows,  narrower  than 

1 The  guanaco  is  the  only  large  wild  quadruped  of  these  regions.  He 
belongs  to  the  same  genus  ( Auchenia ) as  the  llama,  alpaca,  and 
vicuna,  but  is  bigger  than  any  of  them.  Pigafetta  describes  him  as 
having  “ the  head  of  a mule,  the  body  of  a camel,  the  feet  of  a stag, 
and  the  tail  of  a horse.” 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


305 


the  Second,  and  then  a wide  bay,  which  in  its  turn  opens 
into  the  Atlantic  between  two  low  capes,  that  on  the 
north  being  Virgenes,  and  that  on  the  south  Espiritu 
Santo.  Here  it  was  that  Magellan  anchored  while 
his  two  small  ships  went  ahead  to  explore.  The  space 
between  the  capes,  which  is  the  eastern  mouth  of  the 
Straits,  is  about  ten  miles  wide.  The  coast  here,  as 
well  as  both  shores  of  the  Straits  all  the  way  from  Punta 
Arenas,  is  perfectly  flat,  with  a very  slight  rise  of 
ground  some  miles  back  on  the  Patagonian  side.  Clear 
as  was  the  air,  no  hills  were  visible  in  the  distance, 
neither  those  in  the  south  of  Tierra  del  Fuego  nor  those 
westwards  behind  Cape  Froward,  where  the  Andes 
end.  Over  all  this  vast  plain  not  a dwelling  or  sign  of 
life  could  be  discerned  save  the  lighthouse  on  Cape 
Virgenes,  where  the  boundary  line  between  Chile  and 
Argentina  strikes  the  sea.  The  northeastern  part  of 
Tierra  del  Fuego  belongs  to  the  latter,  the  southwestern 
part  to  Chile.  From  below  the  cape,  a low  point  runs 
out  into  the  sea,  to  which  British  mariners  have  given  the 
familiar  name  of  Dungeness  from  its  similarity  to  that 
curious  shingle  bank  which  the  tides  of  the  English 
Channel  have  piled  up  on  the  coast  of  Kent.  It  is, 
however,  much  shorter  than  our  Dungeness  and  the 
pebbles  of  the  shingle  are  smaller. 

Before  I close  this  account  of  the  Straits,  a few  remarks 
may  be  added  on  their  general  physical  character,  which 
some  of  my  readers  may  have  pictured  to  themselves  as 
very  different  from  "what  one  finds  them  to  be.  I had 
myself  done  this,  fancying  them  to  be  a channel  long  and 


306 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


narrow  all  the  way  from  ocean  to  ocean,  a channel  be* 
tween  steep,  dark  hills,  covered  with  dense  forests,  with 
volcanoes,  more  or  less  extinct,  rising  behind.  Nothing 
could  be  further  from  the  reality. 

Magellan’s  Straits  are  unlike  any  other  straits  in 
this  respect,  that  the  physical  aspect  of  the  two  ends  is 
entirely  different.  The  character  of  the  shores  on  each 
side  is  the  same  in  each  part  of  the  channel,  but  both 
shores  of  the  eastern  half,  from  the  Atlantic  to  Cape 
Froward,  are  unlike  those  of  the  western  half  from 
Cape  Froward  to  the  Pacific.  The  former  has  low  banks, 
with  smooth  outlines,  slopes  of  earth  or  sand  dipping 
into  shallow  water,  and  a climate  extremely  dry.  The 
latter  half  is  enclosed  between  high,  steep  mountains 
which  are  drenched  by  incessant  rains.  The  eastern  half 
is  a channel,  narrow  at  two  points  only,  leading  through 
the  southernmost  part  of  the  vast  Argentine  plain,  which 
has  apparently  been  raised  from  the  sea  bottom  in  com- 
paratively recent  times.  The  western  half  is  a deep 
narrow  cut  through  the  extremity  of  a great  mountain 
system  that  stretches  north  for  thousands  of  miles, 
forming  the  western  edge  of  South  America,  and  the 
rocks  on  each  side  of  it  are  ancient  (palseozoic  or 
earlier).  The  western  half  is  grand  and  solemn,  with  its 
deep  waters  mirroring  white  crags  and  blue  glaciers. 
The  low  eastern  half  has  no  beauty  save  that  which 
belongs  to  vast  open  spaces  of  level  land  and  smooth 
water  over  which  broods  the  silence  of  a clear  and 
lucent  air.  A more  singular  contrast,  all  within  a few 
hours’  steaming,  it  would  be  hard  to  find.  Unlike, 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


307 


however,  as  these  two  halves  of  the  Straits  are,  they 
are  both  impressive  in  the  sense  they  give  of  remote- 
ness and  mystery,  a passage  between  two  oceans 
through  a wilderness  most  of  which  is  likely  to  be  for- 
ever left  to  those  overwhelming  forces  of  nature,  rain 
and  wind  and  cold,  which  make  it  useless  to  man. 

Magellan’s  discovery  of  the  Straits  and  circumnavi- 
gation of  the  globe  was  an  event  of  the  highest  geographi- 
cal significance,  for  it  finally  proved  not  only  that  the 
earth  was  round,  and  that  the  western  sea  route  to 
India,  of  which  Columbus  dreamed,  really  existed,  but 
also  that  the  earth  was  immensely  larger  than  had  been 
supposed.  A few  years  after  Magellan,  Pizarro  and  his 
companions,  sailing  southward  from  Panama  to  north- 
ern Chile,  proved  that  the  “South  Sea”  discovered  by 
Balboa  stretched  so  far  to  the  south  that  it  must  be 
continuous  with  that  which  Magellan  had  crossed  to 
the  Philippines.  Thereafter,  not  much  was  done  in 
the  Southern  Hemisphere  until  the  discovery  of  New 
Zealand  and  Australia  two  centuries  later.  But  no  great 
importance,  either  commercial  or  political,  belonged  to  a 
long  and  narrow  strait  which  it  was  extremely  difficult  to 
navigate  against  the  prevalent  west  winds,  so  when  it 
was  presently  discovered  that  there  was  an  open  sea  not 
much  farther  south,  it  was  round  Cape  Horn  and  not 
through  the  Straits  that  most  of  the  English  and  Dutch 
adventurers  made  their  way  to  plunder  the  Spaniards 
on  the  Pacific  coast ; and  when  the  trade  restrictions 
Spain  had  imposed  finally  disappeared  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  commerce  also  went  round  Cape 


308 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Horn,  tedious  and  dangerous  as  was  the  passage  to  those 
who  had  to  face  the  prevailing  westerly  gales.  Even 
in  the  days  when  Charles  Darwin  sailed  in  the  Beagle 
under  Captain  Fitzroy,  hardly  any  merchant  vessels 
traversed  the  Straits.  It  was  the  application  of  steam 
to  ocean-going  vessels  that  gave  to  this  route  the 
importance  it  has  since  possessed.1  It  is  now  threatened, 
as  respects  passenger  traffic,  with  the  competition  of  the 
Transandine  railway;  as  respects  goods  traffic,  with  that 
of  the  Panama  Canal,  and  it  may  possibly  retain  only  so 
much  of  the  latter  as  passes  between  Pacific  ports  south 
of  Callao  and  Atlantic  ports  south  of  the  Equator. 

The  morning  was  brilliant  with  blue  wavelets  spar- 
kling under  a light  breeze  as  we  passed  out  to  the  east 
and  saw  the  low,  flat  bluff  of  Cape  Virgenes  sink  below 
the  horizon.  But  the  wind  rose  steadily,  and  next  morn- 
ing the  spray  was  dashing  over  the  vessel  when  we 
caught  sight,  through  drifting  clouds,  of  the  shores  of 
the  Falkland  Isles.  They  were  wild  and  dreary  shores 
bordered  by  rocky  islands  and  scattered  reefs,  no 
dwellings  anywhere  visible  on  land,  nor  any  boats  on 
sea.  In  the  afternoon,  having  passed,  without  seeing 
it,  the  mouth  of  the  channel  which  separates  the  East 
from  the  West  Falkland,  we  anchored  in  the  deep 
bay  which  forms  the  outer  harbour  of  Port  Stanley, 
the  chief  harbour  and  village  of  the  islands.  The  wind 
was  still  so  strong  that  our  careful  captain  decided  not 
to  take  his  vessel  through  the  very  narrow  passage  which 

1 The  steamers  of  the  Pacific  Steam  Navigation  Company  began 
to  run  through  the  Straits  about  1840. 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


309 


leads  to  the  inner  harbour,  so  we  got  into  the  tiny 
launch  which  had  come  out  with  the  mails,  and  after  a 
tumble  in  the  waves  and  a run  through  the  narrows 
found  ourselves  in  a landlocked  inlet,  on  the  shore  of 
which  stands  the  capital  city  of  this  remote  and  lonely 
part  of  the  British  Empire,  a place  of  a few  hundred 
inhabitants.  Here  was  Government  House,  a sub- 
stantial villa  of  grey  stone.  Indoors  we  found  a cheerful 
little  drawing-room  with  a cheerful  blaze  in  the  grate,  a 
welcome  sight  to  those  who  had  not  seen  a fire  during 
three  weeks  of  almost  constant  cold.  There  was  a tree 
beside  the  house,  the  only  tree  in  the  islands,  and  a con- 
servatory full  of  gay  flowers,  looking  all  the  prettier  in 
such  a spot.  And  from  the  top  of  its  tall  staff  the  meteor 
flag  of  England  was  streaming  straight  out  in  the  gale. 
The  village  — it  seems  to  be  the  only  village  in  the 
colony  — consists  of  one  street  built  mostly  of  wood 
and  corrugated  iron,  with  a few  better  houses  of  stone 
whitewashed,  and  reminded  us  faintly  of  the  little  seaside 
hamlets  of  Shetland  or  the  Hebrides,  though  here  there 
was  neither  a fishlike  smell  nor  any  signs  of  the  industry 
which  dominates  those  islands.  All  was  plain  and  hum- 
ble, but  decent,  and  not  without  a suggestion  of  internal 
comfort.  The  only  colour  was  given  by  some  splendid 
bushes  of  yellow  gorse  in  full  flower,  an  evidence  that 
though  it  is  never  warm  here,  the  thermometer  never 
falls  very  low.  The  climate  is  extremely  healthy,  but 
the  winds  are  so  strong  and  incessant  that  everybody 
goes  about  stooping  forward. 

The  isles  were  uninhabited  when  discovered,  a fact 


310 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


creditable  to  the  aborigines  of  South  America,  for  a more 
unpromising  spot  for  a settlement  of  savages  could  not 
be  imagined  ; no  wood  and  no  food  either  on  the  land 
or  on  the  sea.  At  present  there  are  about  two  thousand 
three  hundred  inhabitants,  nearly  all  of  British  origin, 
including  a good  many  Scots  brought  hither  as  shep- 
herds, for  the  colony  is  now  one  enormous  sheep-farm, 
probably  the  biggest  in  the  world,  and  lives  off  the  wool 
and  skins  it  sends  home  and  the  living  sheep  it  exports 
for  breeding  purposes  to  Punta  Arenas.  Wild  cattle, 
descendants  of  a few  brought  long  ago  by  the  earlier 
settlers,  were  once  numerous,  but  have  now  almost  dis- 
appeared; and  the  tall  tussock  grass,  which  was  such  a 
feature  in  the  days  of  Sir  James  Ross’s  Antarctic  Ex- 
pedition (1840),  has  vanished,  except  from  some  of  the 
smaller  isles.  Poor  is  the  prospect  for  an  agriculturist, 
for  the  climate  permits  nothing  to  ripen  except  potatoes 
and  turnips  with  a few  gooseberries  and  currants.  As 
in  most  oceanic  islands,  the  native  land  fauna,  especially 
of  mammals,  is  extremely  scanty,  and,  what  is  stranger, 
there  are,  so  one  is  told,  so  few  fish  in  the  sea  that  it 
is  not  worth  while  to  face  the  storms  to  catch  them. 
Perhaps  this  is  an  exaggeration,  meant  to  justify  the 
laziness  as  timidity  of  those  who  won’t  go  out.  Cer- 
tain it  is  that  the  sea  is  always  rough,  and  there  are  no 
fishing  boats  about.  Neither  are  there  roads;  the  pop- 
ulation is  so  thin  that  they  would  cost  more  than  its 
needs  justify,  and  locomotion,  even  on  horseback,  is  hin- 
dered by  the  bogs  and  swamps  that  fill  the  hollows. 

One  naturally  asks  in  the  spirit  which  fills  us  all  to-day, 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


311 


whether  anything  can  be  done  to  “develop  the  place,” 
i.e.  to  find  some  resources  for  the  people  and  help  them 
to  make  something  more  of  the  islands.  Well,  there  are 
the  seals  which  frequent  the  coast.  They  belong  to  a 
species  different  from  that  of  the  North  Pacific,  but 
with  an  equally  valuable  fur.  Some  are  now  taken 
by  the  few  whaling  vessels  which  still  resort  to  these 
tempestuous  seas,  but  nothing  is  done  to  prevent  their 
destruction  within  territorial  waters  or  to  preserve  a 
land  herd,  and  it  would  no  doubt  be  difficult  to  exer- 
cise effective  control  on  such  a wild  and  thinly  peopled 
coast.  Yet  what  one  heard  on  the  spot  seemed  to 
suggest  that  steps  might  be  taken  by  international  agree- 
ment for  the  protection  and  utilization  of  these  and  other 
large  marine  mammals  both  here  and  in  the  other  islands 
in  this  part  of  the  ocean.  Some  of  the  rarer  species  are 
threatened  with  extinction.1  The  arrangements  recently 
made  by  a treaty  between  Great  Britain,  the  United 
States,  Russia,  and  Japan,  for  the  benefit  of  the  North 
Pacific  sealing  industry  constitute  a useful  precedent. 

There  are  ports  enough  to  furnish  all  the  west  coast 
of  South  America  with  harbours  of  refuge,  but  no  use 
for  them,  for  few  ships  come  this  way,  and,  as  has  been 
said,  nobody  goes  fishing.  Yet  far  out  of  the  world’s 
highways  as  they  lie,  and  slight  as  is  their  economic  or 
political  value,  the  Falkland  Isles  have  had  a long  and 
chequered  history.  An  English  navigator,  Davis,  dis- 

1 The  enormous  herds  of  fur  seals  which  existed  a century  ago  in 
the  islands  of  South  Georgia,  the  South  Orkneys,  and  the  South 
Shetlands  have  vanished.  300,000  are  said  to  have  been  killed 
within  five  years  in  the  South  Shetlands  alone. 


312 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


covered  them  in  a.d.  1592,  and  they  were  afterwards 
explored  by  a French  voyager  from  the  port  of  St.  Malo, 
whence  the  name  of  lies  Malouines,  by  which  the  French 
still  call  them.  In  1764  Bougainville,  one  of  those 
famous  seamen  who  adorned  the  annals  of  France  in 
that  century,  and  whose  name  is  now  preserved  from 
oblivion  by  the  pretty,  mauve-coloured  flower  which 
grows  over  all  the  bungalows  and  railway  stations  of 
India,  planted  a little  colony  here,  with  the  view,  fan- 
tastic as  it  seems  to  us  now,  of  making  this  remote 
corner  of  the  earth  a central  point  from  which  to  estab- 
lish a transoceanic  dominion  of  France  in  the  Southern 
Hemisphere  to  replace  that  which  had  been  lost  at  Que- 
bec in  1759.  The  Spaniards,  desiring  no  neighbours  in 
that  hemisphere,  dispossessed  these  settlers.  An  Eng- 
lish colony  planted  shortly  afterwards,  presently  driven 
out  by  the  Spaniards,  and  then  re-established,  was  with- 
drawn in  1774.  Finally,  in  1832,  the  British  government 
resumed  possession  of  the  islands,  then  practically  unin- 
habited, for  the  sake  of  the  whale  fishery,  and  in  1843  a 
government  was  organized.  In  its  present  form,  it  is  of  the 
type  usual  in  small  British  colonies,  viz.  a governor  with 
an  executive  and  a legislative  council,  the  two  bodies  nom- 
inated, and  consisting  almost  entirely  of  the  same  persons. 

These  political  vicissitudes  have  left  no  abiding  mark, 
except  in  a few  remains  at  the  station  of  Port  Louis 
which  the  French  made  their  capital,  for  there  never 
was  any  population  to  speak  of  till  sheep-farming  began. 
The  Pacific  liners  call  once  a month  on  their  outward 
and  inland  voyages,  and  steamers  go  now  and  then  to 
Punta  Arenas,  but  there  are  no  British  possessions  nearer 


THE  STRAITS  OF  MAGELLAN 


313 


than  Cape  Colony  to  the  northeast  and  Pitcairn  Island 
to  the  northwest,  thousands  of  miles  away. 

We  walked  with  the  Acting  Governor  to  the  top  of  a 
hill  behind  Port  Stanley  to  get  some  impressions  of 
nature.  There  were  as  yet  only  two  or  three  flowers  in 
bloom,  and  what  chiefly  struck  us  was  the  resemblance 
of  the  thick,  low  mats  and  cushions  of  the  plants  to 
some  species  that  grow  on  the  upper  parts  of  the  Scot- 
tish Highland  mountains.  Among  these,  there  was  one 
producing  a sweet  berry,  the  dillydilly,  from  which  ex- 
cellent jam  is  made,  the  only  edible  wild  product  of  the 
country.  The  prevailing  strata  are  quartzose  schists 
and  sandstones,  which  rise  in  two  mountains  to  heights 
exceeding  two  thousand  three  hundred  feet,  and  as 
there  is  no  trace  of  volcanic  action  anywhere,  the  islands 
are  evidently  not  a link  between  the  great  Antarctic 
volcanoes  and  those  of  the  Andean  system,  but  perhaps 
a detached  part  of  the  older  rocks  through  which  those 
volcanoes  have  risen. 

From  the  hilltop  we  looked  over  a wide  stretch  of 
rolling  hills  covered  with  short  grass,  which  in  the  wet 
hollows  was  yellowish  or  brown.  Ridges  or  peaklets 
of  bare  white  or  blue  rock  rose  here  and  there  into 
miniature  mountains,  and  there  were  runs  of  loose 
stones  on  the  slopes  below  the  ridges,  — altogether 
a wild  landscape,  with  no  woods,  no  fields,  no  signs  of 
human  life  except  in  the  village  beneath,  yet  redeemed 
from  dreariness  by  the  emerald  brilliance  of  the  air 
and  the  variety  of  lights  and  shadows  falling  on  the 
far-off  slopes.  The  evening  tints  were  mirrored  in  the 
landlocked  inlet  below,  and  beyond  the  outer  bay  the 


314 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


cold,  grey,  ever-troubled  sea  stretched  away  towards 
the  South  Pole.  We  felt  as  if  quite  near  the  South 
Pole,  yet  were  no  nearer  to  it  than  the  North  Pole  is  to 
Liverpool.  One  seemed  to  have  reached  the  very  end 
of  the  world.  Though  one  might  be  reminded  a 
little  of  the  Hebrides, — all  windswept  islands  have 
points  of  resemblance,  — still  the  scenery  was  not 
really  like  any  part  of  our  Northern  Hemisphere,  but 
had  a character  of  its  own.  I have  seen  many  wild 
islands  in  many  stormy  seas,  and  some  of  them  more 
bare  and  forbidding  than  this,  but  never  any  inhabited 
spot  that  seemed  so  entirely  desolate  and  solitary  and 
featureless.  There  was  nothing  for  the  eye  to  dwell 
upon,  no  lake,  no  river,  no  mountain,  — only  scattered 
and  shapeless  hills,  — a land  without  form  or  expression, 
yet  with  a certain  simple  and  primitive  beauty  in  the 
colours  of  the  yellow  grass  and  grey-blue  rocks,  shining 
through  clear  air,  with  the  sea-wind  singing  over  them. 
No  spot  could  better  have  met  the  wishes  of  the  hermits 
who,  in  early  Christian  centuries,  planted  themselves  on 
rocky  islets  and  lonely  mountain  tops  on  the  coasts  of 
Ireland,  for  here  there  is  nothing,  even  in  Nature  her- 
self, to  distract  a pious  soul  from  meditation.  Any  one 
who  to-day  desires  seclusion  to  think  out  a new  philos- 
ophy might  find  this  a fitting  place  of  peace,  if  only  he 
could  learn  to  endure  the  perpetual  drive  of  the  wind. 

The  last  flush  of  sunset  was  reddening  on  the  inlet 
when  we  re-joined  our  steamer  and  sailed  down  past  the 
lighthouse  out  into  the  ocean,  a fresh  flock  of  sea-birds 
appearing  to  bear  us  company.  Three  more  stormy 
days  and  stormy  nights  northward  to  Montevideo! 


CHAPTER  IX 


ARGENTINA 

The  interest  which  Argentina  arouses  is  entirely  un- 
like that  which  appeals  to  the  traveller’s  eye  and  mind 
in  Peru  or  Bolivia  or  Chile.  In  each  of  these  three 
countries  there  is  scenery  grand  in  scale  and  different  in 
type  from  what  any  other  part  of  the  world  has  to  shew. 
In  Peru  and  Bolivia  there  are  also  the  remains  of  a 
primitive  civilization,  scanty,  no  doubt,  but  all  the  more 
attractive  because  they  stimulate  rather  than  satisfy 
our  curiosity.  They  speak  of  antiquity,  and  indeed  all 
three  countries  have  a flavour  of  antiquity,  though  Chile 
has  scarcely  any  relics  coming  down  from  it.  But  in  the 
River  Plate  regions  there  is  (except  along  the  Andes  and 
in  the  far  north)  little  natural  beauty,  and  nothing  that 
recalls  the  past.  All  is  modern  and  new ; all  belongs  to 
the  prosperous  present  and  betokens  a still  more  pros- 
perous future.  Argentina  is  like  western  North  Amer- 
ica. The  swift  and  steady  increase  in  its  agricultural 
production,  with  an  increase  correspondingly  large  in 
means  of  internal  transportation,  is  what  gives  its  im- 
portance to  the  country  and  shews  that  it  will  have  a 
great  part  to  play  in  the  world.  It  is  the  United  States 
of  the  Southern  Hemisphere. 

Not  even  the  approach  by  sea  to  Alexandria  or  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Hooghly  below  Calcutta,  is  duller  than 

315 


316 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


that  to  Buenos  Aires.  Before  land  is  seen,  the  vessel 
enters  a muddy,  reddish  brown  sea,  and  presently 
the  winding  channel,  marked  for  a long  way  by  buoys, 
shews  how  shallow  is  the  water  on  either  side.  This 
is  the  estuary,  two  hundred  miles  long  and  at  this  point 
about  thirty  miles  broad,  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata, 
formed  by  the  union  of  the  great  river  Uruguay  with 
the  still  greater  Parana,  streams  which  between  them 
drain  nearly  one-fourth  part  of  the  South  American 
continent.  Approaching  the  Argentine  shore,  one  sees 
a few  masts  and  many  funnels  rising  above  the  tall 
hulls  of  steamships,  docked  in  lines  alongside  huge 
wharves.  Beyond  the  open  space  of  the  wharf  runs  a 
row  of  offices  and  warehouses,  but  nothing  else  is  seen, 
nor  can  one  tell,  except  from  the  size  of  the  docks  and 
the  crowd  of  vessels,  that  a great  city  lies  behind.  Noth- 
ing can  be  seen,  because  Buenos  Aires  stands  only  some 
thirty  feet  above  high-water  mark  in  a perfectly  hat 
alluvial  plain,  with  scarcely  any  rise  in  the  ground  for 
hundreds  of  miles,  and  not  a rock  anywhere.  On  enter- 
ing the  city  one  is  surprised  to  find  that  with  a bound- 
less prairie  all  around,  the  streets  should  be  so  narrow 
that  in  most  of  them  wheeled  traffic  is  allowed  to  move 
only  one  way.  One  great  thoroughfare,  the  Avenida 
de  Mayo,  traverses  the  centre  of  the  city  from  the 
large  plaza  in  which  the  government  buildings  stand 
to  the  still  larger  and  very  handsome  plaza  which  is 
adorned  by  the  palace  of  the  legislature.  Fortunately  it 
is  wide,  and  being  well  planted  with  trees  is  altogether  a 
noble  street,  statelier  than  Piccadilly  in  London,  or  Unter 


ARGENTINA 


317 


den  Linden  in  Berlin,  or  Pennsylvania  Avenue  in  Wash- 
ington. In  the  newer  parts  of  the  city  more  width  is  now 
being  given  to  streets  as  they  are  from  time  to  time  laid 
out,  but  the  congestion  of  the  nucleus  is  a serious  obsta- 
cle to  rapid  locomotion,  which  is  otherwise  well  provided 
for  by  numerous  electric  car  lines.  No  North  American 
city  has  a better  car  service.  Though  skyscrapers  have 
scarcely  yet  made  their  appearance,  the  houses  are 
much  higher  than  in  the  west  coast  cities,  because 
earthquakes  are  not  feared;  and  many  mansions  in 
the  residential  quarters,  built  in  the  modern  French 
style,  have  architectural  merit.  So,  too,  the  numerous 
small  plazas,  usually  planted  with  trees  or  shrubs  and 
furnished  with  seats,  partly  atone  for  the  want  of  space 
in  the  streets.  It  must  be  added  that  the  statues 
which  adorn  these  plazas  do  not  tempt  the  passer-by  to 
linger  in  aesthetic  enjoyment.  One  is  too  acutely 
reminded  of  the  bronze  equestrian  warriors  so  numer- 
ous in  Washington.  The  cities  of  the  western  world, 
having  a short  history,  seem  to  run  to  the  commemora- 
tion of  heroes  whose  names,  little  known  to  other  na- 
tions, will  soon  be  forgotten  in  their  own,  whereas  the 
old  countries,  except  Italy,  seem  forgetful  of  those 
whom  the  western  stranger  would  like  to  have  seen 
held  up  to  reverence. 

Buenos  Aires  deserves  its  name,  for  its  air  is  clear 
as  well  as  keen,  there  being  no  large  manufacturing 
works  to  pollute  it  with  coal  smoke.  The  streets  are 
well  kept ; everything  is  fresh  and  bright.  The  most 
striking  buildings  besides  those  of  the  new  Legislative 


318 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Chambers,  with  their  tall  and  handsome  dome,  are  the 
Opera-house,  the  interior  of  which  equals  any  in  Europe, 
and  the  Jockey  Club,  whose  scale  and  elaborate  ap- 
pointments surpass  even  the  club-houses  of  New  York. 

Buenos  Aires  is  something  between  Paris  and  New 
York.  It  has  the  business  rush  and  the  luxury  of  the 
one,  the  gaiety  and  pleasure-loving  aspect  of  the  other. 
Everybody  seems  to  have  money,  and  to  like  spending 
it,  and  to  like  letting  everybody  else  know  that  it  is 
being  spent.  Betting  on  horses  is  the  favourite  amuse- 
ment, and  the  races  the  greatest  occasion  for  social 
display.  An  immense  concourse  gathers  at  the 
racing  enclosure  and  fills  the  grand-stand.  The  high- 
est officials  of  state  and  city  are  there,  as  well  as  the 
world  of  wealth  and  fashion.  The  ladies  are  decked 
out  with  all  the  Parisian  finery  and  jewels  that  money 
can  buy ; and  although  nature  has  given  to  many  of 
them  good  features  and  to  most  of  them  fine  eyes,  custom 
seems  to  prescribe  that  nature  shall  not  be  left  to  her- 
self. On  fine  afternoons,  there  is  a wonderful  turnout 
of  carriages  drawn  by  handsome  horses,  and  still  more 
of  costly  motor  cars,  in  the  principal  avenues  of  the 
Park  ; they  press  so  thick  that  vehicles  are  often  jammed 
together  for  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  unable  to  move 
on.  Nowhere  in  the  world  does  one  get  a stronger 
impression  of  exuberant  wealth  and  extravagance. 
The  Park  itself,  called  Palermo,  lies  on  the  edge  of  the 
city  towards  the  river,  and  is  approached  by  a well- 
designed  and  well-planted  avenue.  It  suffers  from  the 
absolute  flatness  of  the  ground  in  which  there  is  no 


ARGENTINA 


319 


point  high  enough  to  give  a good  view  over  the  estuary, 
and  also  from  the  newness  of  the  trees,  for  all  this  region 
was  till  lately  a bare  pampa.  But  what  with  its  great 
extent  and  the  money  and  skill  that  are  being  expended 
on  it,  this  park  will  in  thirty  years  be  a glory  to  the 
city.  The  Botanical  Garden,  though  all  too  small,  is 
extremely  well  arranged  and  of  the  highest  interest  to 
a naturalist,  who  finds  in  it  an  excellent  collection  of 
South  American  trees  and  shrubs. 

As  the  Opera-house  and  the  races  and  the  Park 
shew  one  side  of  the  activities  of  this  sanguine  com- 
munity, so  the  docks  and  port  shew  another.  Twenty 
years  ago  sea-going  vessels  had  to  lie  two  or  three  miles 
off  Buenos  Aires,  discharging  their  cargo  by  lighters 
and  their  passengers  partly  by  small  launches  and 
partly  by  high-wheeled  carts  which  carried  people  from 
the  launches  ashore  through  the  shallow  water.  Now 
a long,  deep  channel  has  been  dug,  and  is  kept  open 
by  dredging,  up  which  large  steamers  find  their  way  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  city.  Docks  many  miles  in  length 
have  been  constructed  to  receive  the  shipping,  and 
large  stretches  of  land  reclaimed,  and  huge  warehouses 
erected  and  railway  lines  laid  down  alongside  the 
wharves.  Not  Glasgow  when  she  deepened  her 
river  to  admit  the  largest  ships,  nor  Manchester 
when  she  made  her  ship  canal,  hardly  even  Chicago 
when  she  planned  a new  park  and  lagoons  in  the  lake 
that  washes  her  front,  shewed  greater  enterprise  and 
bolder  conceptions  than  did  the  men  of  Buenos  Aires 
when  on  this  exposed  and  shallow  coast  they  made 


320 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


alongside  their  city  a great  ocean  harbour.  They  are 
a type  of  our  time,  in  their  equal  devotion  to  business 
and  pleasure,  the  two  and  only  deities  of  this  latest 
phase  of  humanity. 

If  the  best  parts  of  Buenos  Aires  are  as  tasteful  as 
those  of  Paris,  there  is  plenty  of  ugliness  in  the  worst 
suburbs.  On  its  land  side,  the  city  dies  out  into  a 
waste  of  scattered  shanties,  or  “ shacks”  (as  they 
are  called  in  the  United  States),  dirty  and  squalid, 
with  corrugated  iron  roofs,  their  wooden  boards 
gaping  like  rents  in  tattered  clothes.  These  are  in- 
habited by  the  newest  and  poorest  of  the  immigrants 
from  southern  Italy  and  southern  Spain,  a large  and 
not  very  desirable  element  among  whom  anarchism  is 
rife.  This  district  which,  if  it  can  hardly  be  called  city, 
can  still  less  be  called  country,  stretches  far  out  over  the 
Pampa.  Thus,  although  the  central  parts  are  built 
closely,  these  suburbs  are  built  so  sparsely  that  the  town 
as  a whole  covers  an  immense  space  of  ground.  Further 
out  and  after  passing  for  some  miles  between  market 
gardens  and  fields  divided  by  wire  fences,  with  never  a 
hedge,  one  reaches  real  country,  an  outer  zone  in  which 
some  of  the  wealthy  landowners  have  laid  out  their 
estates  and  erected  pleasant  country  houses.  We  were 
invited  to  one  such,  and  admired  the  art  with  which 
the  ground  had  been  planted,  various  kinds  of  trees 
having  been  selected  with  so  much  taste  that  even  on 
this  unpromising  level  picturesqueness  and  beauty  had 
been  attained.  Everything  that  does  not  need  much 
moisture  grows  luxuriantly.  We  saw  rosebushes  forty 


ARGENTINA 


321 


feet  high,  pouring  down  a cataract  of  blossoms.  The 
hospitable  owner  had  spent,  as  rich  estancieros  often 
do,  large  sums  upon  his  live  stock,  purchasing  in  Great 
Britain  valuable  pedigree  bulls  and  cows,  and  by  cross- 
ing the  best  European  breeds  with  the  Argentine  stock 
(originally  Spanish)  had  succeeded  in  getting  together 
a herd  comparable  to  the  best  in  England.  To  have 
first-rate  animals  is  here  a matter  of  pride,  even  more 
than  a matter  of  business.  It  is  the  only  interest  that 
competes  with  horse-racing.  Our  friend  had  a num- 
ber of  Gauchos  as  stockmen,  and  they  shewed  us  feats 
of  riding  and  lassoing  which  recalled  the  old  days  of  the 
open  Pampas,  before  high  stock-breeding  was  dreamt 
of,  when  the  Gaucho  horsemen  disputed  the  control  of 
these  regions  with  the  now  vanished  Indian. 

Though  Buenos  Aires  is  often  described  as  a cosmopoli- 
tan place,  its  population  has  far  fewer  elements  than  would 
be  found  in  any  of  the  great  cities  of  the  United  States. 
There  are  English  and  German  colonies,  both  composed 
almost  wholly  of  business  and  railway  men,  and  each 
keeping,  for  social  purposes,  pretty  closely  to  itself. 
There  is  a French  colony,  its  upper  section  including 
men  of  intellectual  mark,  while  the  humbler  members 
serve  pleasure  rather  than  business.  From  the  United 
States  not  many  persons  have  come  to  settle  as  mer- 
chants or  ranch  owners,  but  the  great  meat  companies 
are  already  at  work.  Of  the  so-called  “Latin”  element 
in  the  inhabitants,  half  or  a little  more  is  Argentine 
born,  less  than  a quarter  Spanish  or  Basque,  more  than 
a quarter  Italian,  largely  from  Sicily  and  Calabria. 


322 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Those  Slavonic  parts  of  central  and  eastern  Europe 
which  have  recently  flooded  the  United  States  with 
immigrants  have  sent  very  few  to  South  America. 
Thus  the  mass  of  the  population  in  Buenos  Aires  is 
entirely  Spanish  or  Italian  in  speech,  and  the  two  lan- 
guages are  so  similar  that  the  Italians  easily  learn  Spanish 
while  also  modifying  it  by  their  own  words  and  idioms. 
A mixed,  not  to  say  corrupt,  Spanish  is  the  result. 
That  there  should  be  an  endless  diversity  of  types  of 
face  is  not  surprising,  when  one  remembers  how  great 
are  the  diversities  as  well  in  Spain  as  in  Italy  among 
the  natives  of  the  various  provinces  in  both  those 
kingdoms. 

The  growth  of  a few  great  cities  at  a rate  more 
rapid  than  that  of  the  countries  to  which  they  be- 
long is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  facts  of  recent 
years  and  fraught  with  many  consequences.  It  is 
especially  visible  in  the  newest  countries.  In  New 
South  Wales  the  population  of  Sydney  is  nearly  two- 
fifths  that  of  the  whole  state,  in  Victoria  that  of  Mel- 
bourne more  than  two-fifths.  In  California  two  great 
cities,  San  Francisco  and  Los  Angeles,  have  one-third 
of  the  whole  population.1  The  same  tendency  is  ap- 
parently in  South  America.  Of  the  whole  population  of 
Argentina,  with  its  immense  area  of  1,135,000  square 
miles,  one-fifth  dwell  in  the  city  of  Buenos  Aires.2  It  is 
probable  that  this  ratio  may  be  maintained  so  that  when, 

1 1 reckon  Oakland  and  Berkeley  as,  for  this  purpose,  parts  of  San 
Francisco. 

5 The  population  of  the  Republic  is  about  7,000,000,  and  that  of 
Buenos  Aires  1,300,000. 


ARGENTINA 


323 


thirty  years  hence,  Argentina  counts  twenty  millions  of 
inhabitants,  Buenos  Aires  will  count  four  millions.  There 
are  other  large  cities,  and  one  of  them,  Cordova,  has  an 
ancient  university  and  a society  of  cultivated  men.  But 
business  life  and  political  life,  as  well  as  literary  and 
intellectual  life,  are  so  concentrated  in  Buenos  Aires  as 
to  make  it  to  dwarf  all  the  other  cities  and  give  to  it  an 
influence  comparable  to  that  of  Paris  in  France.  The 
history  of  the  republic  was  for  many  years  a history  of 
the  struggles  between  the  capital — already  pre-eminent 
in  revolutionary  days  — and  the  provinces.  So  the 
people  of  Buenos  Aires  divide  the  Argentine  nation 
into  two  classes,  themselves,  who  are  called  the 
Portenos  (men  of  the  Port),  and  all  the  rest,  the 
dwellers  in  the  Campo  or  open  country.1  And 
though  the  wonderful  development  of  the  railway 
system  has  accelerated  the  settlement  of  the  interior 
and  brought  the  comforts  of  civilization  to  its  towns, 
Buenos  Aires  has  continued  to  maintain  its  supremacy 
by  constantly  drawing  people  from  the  interior.  It 
is,  moreover,  the  gateway  through  which  all  must  pass 
to  and  from  Europe.  Thus  the  Porteno  is  the  type 
and  flower  of  Argentina,  — the  type  of  its  character,  the 
flower  of  its  civilization.  When  we  try  to  understand 
and  appraise  the  Argentine  nation,  which  for  Argentina 
is  the  most  interesting  and  indeed  (apart  from  statistics 
of  production)  the  only  subject  of  study,  it  is  on  him 

'The  English,  adopting  this  term,  talk  of  the  rural  parts  of 
Argentina  as  “ the  Camp,”  an  expression  which  at  first  puzzles  the 
visitor. 


324 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


that  the  eye  must  be  fixed.  Nevertheless  he  is  far 
from  being  the  only  factor.  The  nation  is  spread  over 
a vast  space.  To  conjecture  its  future  we  must  think 
of  the  physical  and  economic  conditions  under  which 
it  will  develop.  These,  therefore,  I will  try  to  sketch 
briefly,  admitting  that  my  own  personal  knowledge  is 
confined  to  Buenos  Aires  and  its  neighbourhood,  and  to 
the  region  round  Mendoza,  mentioned  in  Chapter  VII. 
I shall  speak  first  of  the  natural  features  of  the  country, 
and  then  of  the  natives  and  of  the  colonists  who  came 
among  them,  before  describing  the  Argentina  of  our  own 
time. 

The  northwestern  part  of  the  republic,  lying  east  of 
northern  Chile  and  south  of  western  Bolivia,  is  a table- 
land, sometimes  rugged,  sometimes  undulating,  the 
higher  parts  of  it  much  like  the  adjoining  plateau  of 
Bolivia.  But  the  rest  of  the  country,  nine-tenths  of  the 
whole,  is  an  immense  plain  more  than  two  thousand  miles 
long  from  Magellan’s  Straits  to  the  frontiers  of  eastern 
Bolivia  and  Paraguay.  It  is  interrupted  in  a few  points 
by  low  ranges,  but,  speaking  generally,  is  a prairie  like 
that  which  in  North  America  lies  between  the  hills  of 
southern  Oklahoma  and  the  Canadian  border,  though 
more  level,  for  it  wants  the  undulating  swells  and 
ridges  of  Kansas  and  Iowa,  and  is  less  seamed  by  river 
beds.  The  climate  varies  with  the  latitude.  It  is 
severe  in  the  Patagonian  south,  and  almost  tropical  in 
the  north.  But  in  the  region  called  the  Pampas,  that 
is  to  say,  a sort  of  square,  six  hundred  miles  wide 
from  the  estuary  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  to  the  outlying 


ARGENTINA 


325 


foothills  of  the  Andes  and  about  as  long  from  north  to 
south,  it  resembles  that  of  west  central  Europe,  for  the 
heat  is  great  only  during  the  middle  of  summer  and  the 
winter  cold  is  moderate.  Except  in  the  far  north,  which 
has  a wet  summer  season  with  a heavy  precipita- 
tion, the  rainfall  is  scanty  and  diminishes  as  one 
goes  from  east  to  west,  so  that  much  of  the  western 
belt,  lying  under  the  Andes,  is  too  dry  to  be  culti- 
vated except  by  irrigation.  Fortunately,  the  streams 
that  descend  from  the  snows  provide  irrigation  along 
their  banks.  Many  of  them  lose  themselves  in  the  arid 
ground  on  their  course  further  eastward,  but  as  this 
ground  has  a slight  uniform  fall  towards  the  east, 
they  supply  a certain  amount  of  subterranean  moisture, 
so  that  in  many  districts  where  there  are  no  superficial 
streams,  water  can  be  had  by  digging. 

All  this  level  Pampa,  except  that  subtropical  northern 
section  I have  referred  to,  is  bare  and  open  prairie, 
covered,  as  were  the  former  prairies  of  North  America, 
with  grass  and  flowers,  the  grass  sometimes  six  or  seven 
feet  high ; but  with  no  trees  save  here  and  there  along  the 
beds  of  the  few  and  feeble  streams.  The  native  fauna, 
especially  in  the  families  to  which  the  larger  mammals 
belong,  was  poorer  than  that  of  western  North  America 
and  far  scantier  than  that  of  the  southern  parts  of 
Africa  in  the  same  latitude.  There  were  no  buffaloes 
or  elk,  and  few  horned  creatures  corresponding  to  the 
elands  and  hartebeests  and  antelopes  of  South  Africa. 
So  remarkable  a contrast  is  doubtless  explicable  by  the 
different  geological  histories  of  the  two  continents. 


326 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


When  the  Spaniards  arrived,  this  vast  region  was  oc- 
cupied only  by  a few  wandering  Indian  tribes,  most  of 
them  low  in  the  scale  of  civilization.  They  did  not  culti- 
vate the  soil,  they  had  no  milk-giving  animals,  and  indeed 
hardly  any  animals  to  feed  upon  except  the  guanaco 
and  the  small  South  American  ostrich.  As  the  chase 
furnished  but  little  food  to  these  nomads,  their  numbers 
did  not  increase.  Only  in  the  hilly  regions  of  the  north- 
west were  there  settled  tribes  which  had  learnt  some  of 
the  arts  of  life  from  their  Peruvian  neighbours.  The  rest 
of  the  country  was  a vast  open  wilderness  like  the  lands 
beyond  the  Missouri,  but  the  tribes  were  fewer  and  less 
formidable  than  the  Sioux  or  Pawnees  or  Comanches. 

For  three  centuries  after  their  arrival  the  Spaniards 
did  little  to  explore  or  settle  the  western  or  southern 
parts  of  the  country.  They  founded  small  posts  from 
Buenos  Aires  northwards  along  the  Parana  and  Para- 
guay rivers,  and  through  them  kept  up  communication 
with  Potosi  and  Lima  across  the  vast  Andean  plateau. 
As  the  government  forbade  the  Argentines  to  trade  with 
Europe  direct,  Spanish  merchandise  had  to  be  brought 
to  them  by  a long  and  difficult  land  route  via  Panama 
and  the  ports  of  Peru,  and  thence  over  the  Andes.  The 
inconveniences  of  this  monstrous  system,  devised  in  the 
interests  of  a group  of  Spanish  traders,  were  mitigated 
by  the  smuggling  into  Buenos  Aires,  which  was  carried 
on  by  means  of  English  and  Dutch  ships.  Life  was  not 
secure,  for  the  Indian  tribes  sometimes  raided  up  to  the 
gates  of  the  little  towns,  such  as  Cordova  and  Tucuman, 
but  as  the  savages  had  no  firearms  and  no  discipline, 


ARGENTINA 


327 


it  was  generally  easy  to  repulse  them.  Meanwhile 
some  cattle  and  horses  which  had  been  turned  loose 
in  the  Pampas  after  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century 
began  to  multiply,  till  by  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
there  were  vast  herds  of  both  all  over  the  plains,  wher- 
ever grass  grew,  as  far  south  as  Patagonia. 

When  the  development  of  the  country  had  received 
an  impetus  by  the  creation  in  1776  of  a viceroyalty 
at  Buenos  Aires,  and  by  the  permission  given  to  the 
Atlantic  ports  to  trade  with  Europe,  the  cattle  and 
horses  became  a source  of  wealth,  men  took  to  ranching, 
and  colonization  spread  out  into  the  wilderness.  Then, 
in  1810,  came  the  revolution  which  freed  Argentina  from 
Spain,  and  gave  her  people  the  opportunity  of  making 
their  own  prosperity.  Unfortunately  a period  of  civil 
wars  followed,  and  it  was  not  till  the  fall  of  the  dictator 
Rosas  in  1852  that  the  era  of  real  progress  began. 

All  this  time  the  native  Indians  had  been  disappear- 
ing, partly  by  war,  partly  from  the  causes  which  usually 
break  down  aborigines  in  contact  with  white  men. 
A campaign  organized  against  them  in  1879  practically 
blotted  out  the  last  of  those  who  had  roved  over  the  cen- 
tral Pampas.  The  more  civilized  Indians  of  the  north- 
western plateau  are  quiet  and  industrious.  A few 
nomads,  now  quite  harmless,  survive  in  Patagonia, 
and  some  fiercer  tribes  maintain  a virtual  independence 
in  the  forest  and  swamp  country  of  the  Gran  Chaco 
in  the  far  north.  Otherwise  the  aborigines  have  van- 
ished, leaving  no  trace,  and  having  poured  only  a very 
slight  infusion  of  native  blood  into  the  veins  of 


328 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  modern  Argentine.  Meanwhile  the  strife  with  the 
Indians  and  the  long  civil  wars  which  followed  inde- 
pendence, as  well  as  the  occupation  first  of  catching 
wild  cattle  and  horses  and  then  of  herding  tame  ones, 
had  produced  a type  of  frontiersman  and  cattle- 
man not  unlike  that  of  western  North  America  "between 
1800  and  1880  and  more  distantly  resembling  the 
Cossack  of  southern  Russia  a century  and  a half 
ago.  This  was  the  Gaucho,  a word  said  to  be  drawn 
from  one  of  the  native  languages,  in  which  it  means 
“ stranger.”  He  was  above  all  things  a horseman, 
never  dismounting  from  his  animal  except  to  sleep 
beside  it.  His  weapons  against  cattle  and  men  were 
the  lasso  and  the  boletas,  balls  of  metal  (or  stone) 
fastened  together  by  a thong,  and  so  hurled  as  to  coil 
round  the  legs  of  the  creature  at  which  they  were 
aimed.  Such  missiles  were  used  in  war  by  some  of 
the  Andean  tribes.  His  dress  was  the  poncho,  a square 
piece  of  woollen  cloth  with  a hole  cut  for  the  head  to 
go  through,  and  a pair  of  drawers.  He  could  live  on 
next  to  nothing  and  knew  no  fatigue.  Round  him 
clings  all  the  romance  of  the  Pampas,  for  he  was  taken 
as  the  embodiment  of  the  primitive  virtues  of  daring, 
endurance,  and  loyalty.  Now  he,  too,  is  gone,  as 
North  American  frontiersmen  like  Daniel  Boone  went 
eighty  or  ninety  years  ago,  and  as  the  cow-boy  of 
Texas  and  Wyoming  is  now  fast  going. 

Such  was  the  country  and  such  those  who  dwelt  in  it : 
boundless  plains,  bare  and  featureless,  but  fertile 
wherever  there  was  rain  enough  to  water  them,  and  not 


ARGENTINA 


329 


too  hot  for  the  outdoor  labour  of  a south  European 
race,  a land  fit  for  cattle  and  for  crops,  easy  to  traverse, 
easy  to  till,  because  there  were  neither  stones  to  be 
removed  nor  trees  to  be  felled.  Yet  in  1852  only  an  in- 
significant fraction  of  it  was  used  for  tillage,  and  such 
wealth  as  there  was  consisted  of  the  vast  herds  of  cattle. 
The  population  had  scarcely  reached  a million  and  a 
half.  What  is  it  now  ? 

With  the  comparative  peace  that  followed  the  fall  of 
Rosas  there  came  the  new  factors  which  have  enabled 
the  country  to  advance  so  quickly:  the  entrance  of  Eu- 
ropean capital,  chiefly  expended  in  providing  means  of 
transportation,  and  the  arrival  of  immigrants  from  Italy 
and  Spain.  No  country  offers  greater  facilities  for  the 
construction  of  railways.  Quickly  and  cheaply  built  over 
a surface  everywhere  smooth  and  level,  they  radiate 
out  from  the  capital,  and  have  now  penetrated  every 
part  of  the  country  except  the  marshy  wilderness 
of  the  Gran  Chaco  in  the  north  and  the  arid 
wilderness  of  remote  Patagonia  in  the  south.  The 
central  part  of  the  republic  within  three  hundred 
miles  of  Buenos  Aires  is  as  thickly  scored  with  lines 
of  steel  as  is  Westphalia  or  Ohio.  Settlers,  mostly 
following  the  railroads,  have  now  put  under  crops  or 
laid  out  in  well-appointed  stock  farms  all  this  central 
region  and  a good  deal  more  of  land  to  the  north  of  it. 
The  rest  of  the  plain  is  occupied  by  cattle  ranches  or 
sheep-farms,  except  where  the  want  of  water  makes 
stock  raising  impossible.  Out  of  the  253,000,000 
acres  which  are  roughly  estimated  as  being  the  area 


330 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


available  for  agricultural  or  pastural  purposes  in  Ar- 
gentina— the  total  area  of  the  country  being  728,- 
000,000  acres  — 47,000,000  were  under  cultivation  in 
1910,  this,  of  course,  including  the  slopes  of  the  Andes 
in  the  northwest  round  Tucuman  and  Jujuy,  where 
sugar  and  other  semi-tropical  products  are  grown. 

An  enormous  area  still  remains  available  for  tillage, 
though  nothing  but  experiment  can  determine  to  what 
extent  lands  hitherto  deemed  too  arid  may  be  made  pro- 
ductive by  the  new  methods  of  dry  farming,  now  pros- 
ecuted so  successfully  in  western  North  America,  and 
beginning  to  be  tried  in  South  Africa  and  Australia  also. 
Of  this  central  tract  already  brought  under  cultivation, 
by  far  the  largest  part  is  fertile.  There  are  sandy  bits 
here  and  there,  but  the  bulk  of  it  is  a rich,  deep  loam, 
giving  large  returns  in  its  natural  state.  Thus  the  wav- 
ing plains  of  grass  over  which  the  wandering  Indian 
roamed  and  the  Gaucho  careered  lassoing  the  wild  cattle 
are  now  being  rapidly  turned  into  a settled  farming 
country. 

The  history  of  these  regions  and  the  process  of 
their  settlement  resembles  in  many  points  that  of 
the  western  United  States  and  western  Canada,  but 
differs  in  one  point  of  great  significance.  In  North 
America  the  settlement  of  the  new  lands  has  from 
first  to  last  been  conducted  by  agricultural  settlers 
drawn  from  the  middle  or  working-class  of  the  older 
parts  of  the  country  or  of  Europe,  and  the  land  has 
been  allotted  to  them  in  small  properties,  seldom  exceed- 
ing one  hundred  and  sixty  acres.  Thus  over  all  the 


ARGENTINA 


331 


Mississippi  Valley  states  and  over  the  Canadian 
northwest  there  has  grown  up  a population  of  small 
farmers,  owning  the  land  they  till,  and  furnishing  a 
solid  basis  for  the  establishment  of  democratic  insti- 
tutions among  intelligent  and  educated  men  who  have 
an  interest  in  order  and  good  administration.  In 
Argentina,  however,  — and  the  same  is  generally  true 
of  Mexico,  Chile,  Peru,  and  Brazil,  — the  land,  be- 
fore or  when  it  began  to  be  regularly  settled,  passed  in 
large  blocks  into  comparatively  few  hands.  There  was 
no  class  like  the  men  who  settled  New  England  in  the 
seventeenth  century  and  whose  descendants  settled  the 
Great  West  in  the  nineteenth.  The  ideas  of  Spanish  feu- 
dalism still  lived  among  the  Argentine  colonists  of  a cen- 
tury ago.  Leading  men  or  rich  men  took  as  much  land 
as  they  could  get  on  the  Pampas ; and,  seeing  that  there 
was  little  competition,  each  could  get  pretty  much  all  he 
wanted.  Thus  the  country  became  and  is  a country 
of  great  estates.  They  are  measured  by  the  square 
league,  which  contains  about  six  thousand  acres. 
Though  a tendency  to  subdivision  has  set  in  and  will 
doubtless  continue,  estancias  of  sixty  thousand  acres 
are  not  uncommon ; and  the  average  holding  is  said 
to  be  even  now  about  six  square  miles. 

This  feature  has,  of  course,  had  important  effects 
on  the  character  of  the  rural  population.  It  consists, 
broadly  speaking,  of  two  classes,  the  rich  estancieros 
or  landholders,  and  the  labourers.  Though  a good 
many  Englishmen  and  other  foreigners  have  bought 
farms  and  mean  to  stay  on  them,  so  that  they  or  their 


332 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


children  will  doubtless  end  by  becoming  Argentines, 
still  most  of  the  large  landholders  are  Argentine  born. 
Many  have  become  or  are  becoming  opulent,  not  only  by 
the  sale  of  their  crops  and  their  live  stock,  but  simply 
by  the  rapid  rise  in  the  value  of  land.  They  live  in 
a liberal,  easy,  open-air  way  in  straggling  mansions  of 
the  bungalow  type,  low  and  large,  which  they  tire  now, 
thanks  to  the  railways,  able  to  furnish  with  the  mod- 
ern appliances  of  comfort.  The  labouring  class,  who 
gather  like  feudal  dependents  round  the  estancia,  are  of 
two  classes.  Some  are  native,  largely  the  offspring  of 
the  old  Gauchos,  who  have  now  settled  down  to  work 
as  peons  (labourers),  unlearning  their  wild  ways, 
and  beginning  to  send  their  children  to  school.  The 
rest  are  immigrants  drawn  from  Italy  and  Spain  by 
the  immense  demand  for  labour.  Most  numerous  are 
the  natives  of  northern  Italy,  hard-working  men  who 
do  not  fear  the  heat  and  can  live  on  very  little.  Many 
of  them  come  out  for  the  harvesting  weeks  of  Decem- 
ber and  January,  and  return  home  to  reap  their  own 
harvest  or  gather  their  own  vines  in  the  Italian  summer 
and  autumn,  thus  making  the  best  of  both  hemi- 
spheres, much  as  the  sleepless  herdsman  in  the  Odyssey 
could  earn  wages  by  working  day  and  night.  As  the 
native  peons  are  the  men  qualified  to  handle  live  stock, 
so  these  Italians  are  the  most  valuable  for  all  kinds  of 
agriculture.  Some  receive  wages:  some  who  stay  for 
a few  years  on  the  farm  receive  land  to  till  and  bring 
into  condition,  and  pay  a part,  perhaps  one-quarter, 
of  the  crop  by  way  of  rent.  They  seem  to  take  to  the 


ARGENTINA 


333 


country,  and  though  many  return  to  Europe  when  they 
have  accumulated  what  is  to  them  a fortune,  a large  and 
increasing  number  remain.  Probably  more  and  more  of 
them  will  try  to  acquire  small  holdings,  and  as  the  price 
of  land  rises,  many  great  landowners  may,  since  the  habit 
of  extravagance  is  always  growing,  be  tempted  to  sell 
off  bits  of  their  estates.  Thus  a middle  class  of  peas- 
ant proprietors  may  grow  up  between  the  big  estan- 
ciero  and  the  lowly  peon.  But  at  the  present  moment 
small  properties  are  rare.  The  country  is  not,  like 
western  Canada,  a place  suitable  for  British  or  Scandi- 
navian immigrants  of  small  means,  not  merely  on 
account  of  the  climate,  but  because  they  could  not 
easily  get  small  farms  and  the  means  of  working  them. 
At  present  it  is  only  persons  with  some  capital  who  can 
be  advised  to  come  hither  from  England  to  farm. 

Agricultural  prosperity,  more  general  here  than 
almost  anywhere  else  in  the  world,  is  tempered  by 
two  risks,  either  of  which  may  destroy  the  profits 
of  the  year.  One  is  drought.  As  the  average  rain- 
fall is,  in  most  parts  of  the  country,  only  just  sufficient 
to  give  moisture  to  the  arable  land,  together  with 
drink  and  grass  to  the  animals,  a deficient  rainfall 
means  scanty  crops  and  the  loss  of  cattle.  It  is  only 
along  the  skirts  of  the  Andes  that  much  can  be  done  by 
irrigation,  for  the  permanent  rivers  are  few  and  the  la- 
goons, which  at  one  time  were  frequent,  have  been  dry- 
ing up.  Besides,  they  are  often  brackish.  The  other 
danger  is  a plague  of  locusts.  These  horrible  creatures 
come  in  swarms  so  vast  as  to  be  practically  irresistible. 


334 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Expedients  may  be  used  to  destroy  them  while  they  are 
walking  along  the  ground  by  digging  trenches  in  their 
path,  tumbling  them  in  and  burning  them,  but  many 
survive  these  efforts,  and  when  they  get  on  the  wing, 
nothing  can  be  done  to  check  their  devastating  flight. 
Did  the  swarms  come  every  year,  the  land  would  not 
be  worth  tilling,  but  at  present  the  yield  of  good  years 
more  than  covers  the  losses  both  of  droughts  and  of 
locust  invasions.  Men  talk  of  erecting  a gigantic 
fence  of  zinc  to  stop  the  march  of  the  creatures  south- 
ward from  the  Gran  Chaco,  for  here,  as  in  South  Africa, 
they  seem  to  come  out  of  a wilderness.  When  the  Gran 
Chaco  itself  begins  to  be  reclaimed,  the  plague  may 
perhaps  be  stayed. 

As  aridity  is  the  weak  point  of  the  Pampas  in  their 
agricultural  aspect,  so  monotony  is  the  defect  of  their 
scenery.  There  is  a certain  beauty  in  a vast  plain,  but 
this  one  is  so  absolutely  dead  a level  that  you  cannot 
see  its  vastness.  There  would  be  a charming  variety 
of  colour  in  it,  the  vivid  green  of  the  alfalfa  and  the 
light  blue  profusion  of  the  flax  blossoms  contrasting 
with  the  yellowing  wheat  and  the  more  sober  greyish 
tints  of  the  maize  and  the  bleached  pasture,  but  all  these, 
as  well  as  the  shadows  of  the  passing  clouds,  are  not 
visible  when  one  is  standing  on  the  ground  and  can  see 
no  further  than  a mile  or  two.  The  Pampa  country  has 
now  been  turned  from  a prairie  of  grass  and  flowers 
into  huge  fields  divided  by  wire  fences  and  intersected 
by  straight  roads,  or  rather  cart  tracks,  marked  by 
the  line  of  brown  dust  that  a drove  of  cattle  or  a ve- 


ARGENTINA 


335 


hide  raises.  The  landscape  was  in  Gaucho  days  the  same 
for  hundreds  of  miles.  It  is  so  still,  but  now  it  wants 
the  wildness  and  the  flowers,  nor  has  it  the  deep  river 
channels  and  their  overhanging  bluffs  which  here  and 
there  relieve  the  uniformity  of  the  North  American 
prairie  states.  However,  in  many  places  orchards  and 
clumps  of  other  trees  are  being  grown  round  the  man- 
sion house.  Such  a clump,  being  the  only  sort  of  emi- 
nence that  breaks  the  skyline,  is  called  a Monte.  The 
swift-growing  Australian  gum,  which  has  now  domesti- 
cated itself  in  most  of  the  warmer  parts  of  the  world, 
waves  its  pliant  tops  in  the  breeze,  more  picturesque 
in  the  distance  than  it  is  close  at  hand.  If  man’s  hand 
takes  something  away  from  the  wild  charm  of  nature, 
he  also  by  degrees  creates  that  other  charm  which  be- 
longs to  rural  life,  so  this  land  will  come  in  time  to  be 
less  dull  and  more  homelike.  Pleasure  grounds  round 
the  estancias  will  mitigate  the  roughness  of  a first  set- 
tlement, and  there  will  be  groves  with  dim  recesses 
in  their  thickets  to  stir  the  imagination  of  children. 
There  is  always  in  the  Pampas  an  amplitude  of  air 
and  a solemn  splendour  of  the  sunset  glow  to  carry  the 
mind  away  beyond  its  near  surroundings. 

Nevertheless  one  is  glad  not  to  have  been  born  in  the 
Pampas. 

Perhaps  those  whose  early  years  have  been  passed  in 
flat  countries  do  not  feel  the  need  for  hills  in  the  land- 
scape in  the  same  way  as  do  the  natives  of  Scotland  or 
New  England.  Could  any  one  of  the  latter  class  dwell 
for  twelve  months  in  Argentina  without  longing  to  rush 


336 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


off  for  refreshment  to  the  mountains  and  lakes  of  the 
South  Chilean  Andes. 

One  word  more  on  the  economic  aspects  of  Argentina 
before  I come  to  the  people.  The  wealth  of  the  land 
is  in  tillage  and  live  stock.  Its  three  great  agricultural 
products  are  wheat,  maize,  and  linseed,  in  each  of  which 
it  is  now  in  the  front  rank  of  exporting  countries. 
Sugar  and  cotton  are  grown  in  the  north,  and  may 
increase  largely  there  as  that  region  gets  settled,  and 
v/ine  is  made  at  Mendoza  for  home  consumption. 
Cereals  will,  however,  remain  the  most  important 
crops.  Vast  as  has  been  the  increase  of  live  stock,  the 
limits  of  the  ranching  area  have  not  yet  been  reached.1 
The  export  of  meat  received  a great  stimulus  from  the 
introduction  of  systems  of  cold  storage  and  transport, 
and  now  an  enormous  amount  of  European  and  North 
American  as  well  as  Argentine  capital  is  embarked  in 
this  trade.  There  is,  so  far  as  known,  hardly  any  coal 
in  the  country,  and  the  sources  of  water-power  are  only 
along  the  Southern  Andes,  so  that  manufacturing  indus- 
tries have  not  been  established  on  any  large  scale.  The 
slopes  of  the  Cordilleras  furnish  mines  of  gold,  silver, 
copper,  and  lead,  but  the  production  of  these  minerals 
is  small  compared  to  that  of  Peru  and  Bolivia.  The 
people  have  not  taken  to  the  sea  either  as  mercantile 
mariners  or  as  fishermen,  and  the  demand  for  agricul- 
tural labour  has  been  so  large  that  there  was  no  occa- 
sion for  any  one  to  seek  his  living  in  those  employments. 

1 There  were,  in  1911,  30,000,000  cattle,  68,000,000  sheep,  and 
7,500,000  horses. 


ARGENTINA 


337 


Thus  we  may  say  that  among  those  great  countries 
of  the  world  which  Europeans  have  peopled,  Argentina 
is  that  which  is  now,  and  is  likely  to  continue,  the  most 
purely  agricultural  in  its  industrial  character. 

The  best  evidence  or  illustration  of  the  swift  progress 
of  the  republic  and  of  the  confidence  which  European 
investors  feel  in  its  resources  is  to  be  found  in  the  devel- 
opment of  its  railway  system.  The  first  railway  line  was 
opened  in  1857  and  was  twelve  miles  long.  In  1911  there 
were  nearly  20,000  miles  in  operation,  and  the  receipts  in 
1910  amounted  to  £20,000,000.  Most  of  these  railways, 
many  of  which  are  of  a gauge  broader  than  those  of  the 
United  States  or  Great  Britain,  have  been  built  and 
are  worked  by  British  companies,  a few  by  the  gov- 
ernment.1 

In  this  immense  fertile  and  temperate  country  with 
hardly  six  people  to  a square  mile,  what  limit  can  we 
set  to  the  growth  of  wealth  and  population  ? Already  the 
nation  is  larger  than  the  Dutch  or  Portuguese  or  Swedish. 
Within  thirty  years  it  may  equal  Italy.  Within  fifty 
years  it  may  approach  France  or  England,  even  if  the 
present  rate  of  its  increase  be  reduced.  It  may  one  day 
be  the  most  numerous  among  all  the  peoples  that  speak 
a tongue  of  Latin  origin,  as  the  United  States  is  already 
the  most  numerous  of  all  that  speak  a Teutonic  one. 
Many  things  may  happen  to  change  its  present  char- 

1 The  total  amount  of  British  capital  invested  in  Argentine  rail- 
roads, tramways,  banks,  and  land  was,  in  1910,  £295,000,000.  In 
writing  about  a country  which  attracts  the  world  chiefly  by  its 
material  development  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  figures,  but  I wish  to 
give  the  reader  no  more  than  are  absolutely  needed. 


338 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


acter,  yet  the  unformed  character  of  the  youth  before 
whom  such  a future  seems  to  he  is  well  worth  studying. 

First  a few  words  about  the  race.  No  other  Spanish- 
American  state,  except  Uruguay,  has  a people  of  a stock 
so  predominantly  European.  The  aboriginal  Indian 
element  is  too  small  to  be  worth  regarding.  It  is  now 
practically  confined  to  the  Gran  Chaco  in  the  extreme 
north,  but  elsewhere  the  influence  of  Indian  blood  is 
undiscernible  among  the  people  to-day.1  The  aborig- 
ines of  the  central  Pampas  have  disappeared,  — nearly 
all  were  killed  off,  — and  those  of  Patagonia  have  been 
dying  out.  We  have,  therefore,  a nation  practically  of 
pure  South  European  blood,  whose  differences  from  the 
parent  stock  are  due,  not  to  the  infusion  of  native  ele- 
ments, but  to  local  and  historical  causes. 

Till  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  this  population  was  al- 
most entirely  of  Spanish  stock.  Then  the  rapid  develop- 
ment of  the  Pampas  for  tillage  began  to  create  a demand 
for  labour,  which,  while  it  increased  immigration  from 
Spain,  brought  in  a new  and  larger  flow  from  Italy. 
The  Spaniards  who  came  were  largely  from  the  northern 
provinces  and  among  them  there  were  many  Basques,  a 
race  as  honest  and  energetic  as  any  in  Europe.  So  far 
back  as  1875  one  used  to  see  in  the  French  Basque 
country  between  Biarritz  and  the  pass  of  Roncesvafles 
plenty  of  neat  and  comfortable  houses  erected  by  men 
who  had  bought  back  their  savings  from  the  River 

1 There  is,  however,  a small  population  of  mixed  Indian  and 
colonial  stock  in  the  plateau  of  the  Andean  northwest  adjoining 
Bolivia. 


ARGENTINA 


339 


Plate.  The  Italians  have  flocked  in  from  all  parts  of 
their  peninsula,  but  the  natives  of  the  north  take  to 
the  land,  and  furnish  a very  large  part  of  the  agricultural 
labour,  while  the  men  from  the  southern  provinces, 
usually  called  Napolitanos,  stay  in  the  towns  and  work 
as  railway  and  wharf  porters,  or  as  boatmen,  and  at 
various  odd  jobs.  In  1909,  out  of  1,750,000  persons  of 
foreign  birth  in  the  republic,1  there  were  twice  as  many 
Italians  as  Spaniards,  besides  one  hundred  thousand 
from  France,  the  latter  including  many  French  Basques, 
who  are  no  more  French  than  Spanish.  Between  1904 
and  1909  the  influx  of  immigrants  had  risen  from  125,- 
000  annually  to  255,000.  The  Spaniards,  of  course,  blend 
naturally  and  quickly  with  the  natives,  who  speak  the 
same  tongue.  The  Italians  have  not  yet  blent,  for  there 
has  hardly  yet  been  time  for  them  to  do  so,  but  there 
is  so  much  similarity,  not  indeed  in  character  but  in 
language  and  ways  of  life,  that  they  will  evidently  be- 
come absorbed  into  the  general  population.  Children 
born  in  the  country  grow  up  to  be  Argentines  in  sentiment, 
and  are,  perhaps,  even  more  vehemently  patriotic  than 
the  youth  of  native  stock. 

Here,  as  in  the  United  States,  the  birth-rate  is  higher 
among  immigrants  than  among  natives.  In  the  case 
of  Italians  it  is  twice,  in  that  of  Spaniards  one  and  a 
half  times,  as  great. 

What  effect  upon  the  type  and  tendencies  of  the 
future  nation  this  Italian  infusion  will  have  it  is  hard  to 
predict,  because  no  one  knows  how  far  national  charac- 
1 844,000  were  from  Italy,  424,000  from  Spain. 


340 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ter  is  affected  by  blood  admixture.  We  have  no  data 
for  estimating  the  comparative  importance  of  heredity 
and  of  environment  upon  a population  which  is  the 
product  of  two  elements,  the  foreign  one  injected  into 
a larger  native  element  whose  prepotent  influences 
modify  the  offspring  of  new-comers.1  x 

In  considering  the  probable  result  of  the  commingling, 
and  as  a fact  explaining  the  readiness  with  which  Italian 
immigrants  allow  themselves  to  be  Argentinized,  one 
must  remember  that  these  come  from  the  humblest  and 
least  educated  strata  of  Italian  society.  They  are,  like 
all  Italians,  naturally  intelligent,  but  they  have  not 
reached  that  grade  of  knowledge  which  attaches  men 
to  the  literature  and  the  historical  traditions  of  their 
own  country.  Thus,  the  scantiness  of  their  education 
prevents  them  from  making  either  to  the  intellectual 
life  or  to  the  art  of  their  adopted  country  those  contri- 
butions which  one  might  expect  from  a people  which 
has  always  held  a place  in  the  front  rank  of  European 
letters,  art,  and  science.  It  may  be  expected,  however, 
that  in  the  course  of  a generation  or  two  inborn  Italian 
capacity  will  assert  itself  in  the  descendants  of  the  im- 
migrants. 

The  other  foreigners,  French,  English  (business  men 
and  landowning  farmers),  and  German  (chiefly  business 
men  in  the  cities)  are  hardly  numerous  enough  to  affect 
the  Argentine  type,  and  the  two  latter  have  hitherto  re- 

1 Some  remarks  upon  this  obscure  question  will  be  found  in 
Chapter  XCII  of  the  author’s  American  Commonwealth  (edition  of 
1910).  The  problem  is  rather  simpler  here  than  in  the  United 
States  because  the  recently  injected  elements  are  here  less  various. 


ARGENTINA 


341 


mained  as  distinct  elements,  being  mostly  Protestants 
and  marrying  persons  of  their  own  race.  They  occupy 
themselves  entirely  with  business  and  have  not  entered 
Argentine  public  life;  yet  as  many  of  them  mean  to 
remain  in  the  country,  and  their  children  born  in  it 
become  thereby  Argentine  citizens,  it  is  likely  that 
they,  also,  will  presently  be  absorbed,  and  their  Argen- 
tine descendants  may  figure  in  politics  here,  as  families 
of  Irish  and  British  origin  do  in  Chile. 

The  social  structure  of  the  nation  is  the  result  of  the 
economic  conditions  already  described.  In  the  rural 
districts  there  are  two  classes  only, — landowners,  often 
with  vast  domains,  and  labourers,  the  native  labourers 
settled,  the  Italians  to  some  extent  migratory.  In  the 
cities  there  exists,  between  the  wealthy  and  the  work- 
ingmen, a considerable  body  of  professional  men,  shop- 
keepers, and  clerks,  who  are  rather  less  of  a defined 
middle  class  than  they  would  be  in  European  countries. 
Society  is  something  like  that  of  North  American  cities, 
for  the  lines  between  classes  are  not  sharply  drawn,  and 
the  spirit  of  social  equality  has  gone  further  than  in 
France,  and,  of  course,  far  further  than  in  Germany  or 
Spain.  One  cannot  speak  of  an  aristocracy,  even  in  the 
qualified  sense  in  which  the  word  could  be  used  in  Peru 
or  Chile,  for  though  a few  old  colonial  families  have  the 
Spanish  pride  of  lineage,  it  is,  as  a rule,  wealth  and 
wealth  only  that  gives  station  and  social  eminence. 
Manners,  which  everywhere  in  South  America  have 
lost  something  of  the  courtliness  of  Castile,  are  here 
rather  more  “ modern  ” than  in  Mexico  or  Lima,  because 


342 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  growth  of  wealth  has  brought  up  new  men  and  has 
made  money  the  criterion  of  eminence,  or  at  least  of 
prominence.  Here,  as  in  England  and  the  United  States, 
one  sees  that  though  the  constitution  is  democratic, 
society  has  some  of  the  characteristics  of  a plutocracy. 

The  little  that  I have  to  say  about  the  political  life  of 
the  country  must  be  reserved  for  another  and  more 
general  chapter,  so  I will  here  note  only  two  facts 
peculiar  to  Argentina.  It  is,  of  all  the  Spanish-American 
republics,  that  in  which  the  church  has  least  to  do  with 
politics.  Though  Roman  Catholicism  is  declared  by 
the  constitution  to  be  supported  by  the  state,  and  the 
president  and  vice-president  must  profess  it,  that 
freedom  of  religious  worship  which  is  guaranteed  by  law 
is  fully  carried  out  in  practice,  and  all  denominations 
may,  without  let  or  hindrance,  erect  churches  and 
preach  and  teach.  The  legislature  has  shewn  itself 
so  broad-minded  as  to  grant  subventions  to  a system 
of  Protestant  schools  founded  originally  as  a mission- 
ary enterprise  by  a Protestant  Episcopal  clergyman,  and 
many  of  the  Roman  Catholic  families  of  Buenos  Aires 
send  their  children  to  schools  provided  by  the  Ameri- 
can Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  In  liberality  of  spirit, 
Argentina  is  rather  more  advanced  than  either  Peru 
or  Chile,  not  to  speak  of  bigoted  Ecuador.  Still  more 
noteworthy  is  it  that  there  seems  to  be  little  or  no 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  church  to  influence  public 
affairs.  No  political  party  is  allied  with  the  clergy, 
no  clerical  influence  is  felt  in  elections.  The  happy 
detachment  of  the  two  spheres  which  travellers  observe 


ARGENTINA 


343 


and  admire  in  North  America  deserves  even  more 
credit  when  found  in  a country  where  intolerance 
long  reigned  supreme. 

The  other  phenomenon  which  no  one  will  connect 
with  religious  freedom,  inasmuch  as  it  has  appeared  in 
nearly  every  country  of  Europe  and  of  North  America, 
whatever  be  the  religious  conditions  that  prevail,  is 
the  emergence  here  and  nowhere  else  in  South  America 
of  a vehement  anarchist  propaganda.  Among  the 
immigrants  from  Italy  and  from  eastern  Spain  there 
have  been  enough  persons  engaged  in  this  movement 
to  cause  great  alarm  to  the  government.  Not  long 
ago  the  chief  of  the  police  was  killed  by  an  explosive 
thrown  by  a Russian  anarchist,  and  in  the  summer  of 
1910  a bomb  was  exploded  in  the  great  Opera-house  dur- 
ing a performance,  wounding  a number  of  persons. 
These  occurrences  led  to  the  proclamation  of  a state 
of  siege  which  was  maintained  for  many  weeks.  The 
police  is  said  to  be  efficient,1  and  the  Executive  did  not 
hesitate  to  use  powers  which  it  would  be  less  easy  to 
obtain  or  use  in  the  United  States  or  in  England.  Our 
age  has  seen  too  many  strange  incidents  to  be  sur- 
prised that  these  acts  of  violence  should  be  perpetrated 
in  a country  where,  though  no  doubt  there  is  an  osten- 
tatious display  of  wealth,  work  is  more  abundant  and 
wages  are  higher  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world. 
Such  acts  are  aimed  not  at  oppression,  nor  at  bad  in- 
dustrial conditions,  but  at  government  itself. 

1 1 was  told  that  many  of  the  street  police  are  Indians  from  the 
north  of  the  country. 


344 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Here,  as  generally  in  South  America,  though  less  in 
Chile  than  elsewhere,  politics  is  mainly  in  the  hands  of 
the  lawyers.  A great  deal  of  the  best  intellect  of  the 
country,  probably  more  in  proportion  than  in  any 
European  country  or  in  the  United  States,  goes  into 
this  profession;  and  the  contributions  to  the^world’s 
store  of  thought  and  learning  made  by  Argentine 
writers  have  been  perhaps  more  considerable  in  this 
branch  of  enquiry  than  in  any  other.  In  the  sphere  of 
historical  or  philosophical  or  imaginative  literature,  not 
much  has  yet  been  done,  nor  is  the  class  prepared  to 
read  such  books  a large  one.  Fiction  is  supplied  by 
France.  The  press  is  a factor  in  public  affairs  whose 
power  is  comparable  to  that  exercised  by  the  leading 
newspapers  in  Australia.  It  is  conducted  on  large 
and  bold  lines,  especially  conspicuous  in  two  journals  of 
the  capital1  which  have  now  a long  record  of  vigour 
and  success  behind  them.  The  concentration  of  politi- 
cal and  commercial  activities  in  Buenos  Aires  gives  to 
them  the  same  advantage  that  belongs  to  the  leading 
organs  of  Sydney  and  Melbourne. 

The  world  is  to-day  ruled  by  physical  science  and 
by  business,  which,  in  the  vast  proportions  industry 
and  commerce  have  now  attained,  is  itself  the  child  of 


1 They  have  a mass  of  readers  near  at  hand  and  a revenue  from 
advertisements  comparable  to  those  which  are  found  in  the  United 
States  and  Australia,  but  are  not  found  in  Spanish  America  outside 
Buenos  Aires. 

Mr.  F.  Seebey  states  that,  in  1903,  212  periodicals  were  published 
in  Buenos  Aires  in  various  languages  or  dialects,  including  Basque, 
Catalan,  and  Genoese. 


ARGENTINA 


345 


physical  science.  Argentina  is  thoroughly  modern  in 
the  predominance  of  business  over  all  other  interests. 
Only  one  other  comes  near  it.  The  Bostonian  man  of 
letters  who  complained  that  London  was  no  place  to 
live  in  because  people  talked  of  nothing  but  sport  and 
politics,  would  have  been  even  less  happy  in  Buenos 
Aires,  because  there,  when  men  do  not  talk  of  sport, 
they  talk  of  business.  Politics  is  left  to  the  politicians ; 
it  is  the  esiancia,  its  cattle  and  its  crops,  and  the  race- 
course, with  its  betting,  that  are  always  in  the  mind  and 
on  the  tongue,  and  are  moulding  the  character,  of  the 
wealthier  class.  Business  is  no  doubt  still  so  largely 
in  the  hands  of  foreigners  that  one  cannot  say  that  the 
average  Argentine  has  developed  a talent  for  it  com- 
parable to  that  of  those  whom  he  calls  the  North  Ameri- 
cans, seeing  that  much  of  his  wealth  has  come  to  him 
by  the  rise  in  the  values  of  his  land  and  the  immense 
demand  for  its  products.  He  is  seldom  a hard  worker, 
for  it  has  been  his  ill  fortune  to  be  able  to  get  by  sitting 
still  what  others  have  had  to  work  for,  but  he  does  not 
yield  to  New  York  in  what  is  called  a “go-ahead  spirit.” 
He  is  completely  up  to  date.  He  has  both  that  jubilant 
patriotism  and  that  exuberant  confidence  in  his  country 
which  marked  the  North  American  of  1830-1860.  His 
pride  in  his  city  has  had  the  excellent  result  of  making 
him  eager  to  put  it,  and  keep  it,  in  the  forefront  of 
progress,  with  buildings  as  fine,  parks  as  large,  a water 
supply  as  ample,  provisions  for  public  health  as  perfect, 
as  money  can  buy  or  science  can  devise.  The  wealth 
and  the  expansion  of  Buenos  Aires  inspire  him,  as  the 


346 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


wealth  and  expansion  of  Chicago  have  inspired  her 
citizens,  and  give  him,  if  not  all  of  their  forceful  energy, 
yet  a great  deal  of  their  civic  idealism. 

It  is  the  only  kind  of  idealism  that  one  finds  in  the 
city  or  the  country.  Every  visitor  is  struck  by  the 
dominance  of  material  interests  and  a material  view 
of  things.  Compared  with  the  raking  in  of  money  and 
the  spending  it  in  betting  or  in  ostentatious  luxury, 
a passion  for  the  development  of  the  country’s  resources 
and  the  adornment  of  its  capital  stand  out  as  aims  that 
widen  the  vision  and  elevate  the  soul.  A recent  acute 
and  friendly  observer  has  said  that  patriotism  among 
the  Argentines  amounts  to  a mania.  Such  excess  of 
sentiment  is  not  only  natural  in  a young  and  growing 
nation,  and  innocent  too  (so  long  as  it  is  not  aggressive), 
but  is  helpful  in  giving  men  something  beyond  their 
own  material  enjoyments  and  vanities  to  think  of  and 
to  work  for.  It  makes  them  wish  to  stand  well  in  the 
world’s  eyes,  and  do  in  the  best  way  what  they  see  others 
doing.  If  there  is  an  excess,  time  will  correct  it. 

Loitering  in  the  great  Avenida  de  Mayo  and  watch- 
ing the  hurrying  crowd  and  the  whirl  of  motor  cars, 
and  the  gay  shop-windows,  and  the  open-air  cafes  on 
the  sidewalks,  and  the  Parisian  glitter  of  the  women’s 
dresses,  one  feels  much  nearer  to  Europe  than  any- 
where else  in  South  America.  Bolivia  suggests  the 
seventeenth  century  and  Peru  the  eighteenth,  and  even 
in  energetic  Chile  there  is  an  air  of  the  elder  time, 
and  a soothing  sense  of  detachment.  But  here  all  is 
twentieth  century,  with  suggestions  of  the  twenty-first. 


ARGENTINA 


347 


Yet,  modern  as  they  are,  and  reminding  one  sometimes 
of  the  gaiety  of  Paris  and  sometimes  of  the  stir  and 
hurry  of  Kansas  City,  the  Argentines  are  essentially 
unlike  either  Europeans  or  North  Americans.  To  say 
in  what  the  difference  consists  is  all  the  harder  because 
one  doubts  whether  there  yet  exists  a definite  Argentine 
type.  They  have  ceased  to  be  Spaniards  without  be- 
coming something  new  of  their  own.  They  seem  to  be 
a nation  in  the  making,  not  yet  made.  Elements  more 
than  half  of  which  are  Spanish  and  Basque,  and  one- 
third  of  which  are  Italian,  are  all  being  shaken  up 
together  and  beginning  to  mix  and  fuse  under  condi- 
tions not  before  seen  in  South  American  life.  That 
which  will  emerge,  if  more  Spanish  than  Italian  in  blood, 
will  be  entirely  South  American  in  sentiment  and  largely 
French  in  its  ways  of  thinking,  for  from  France  come 
the  intellectual  influences  that  chiefly  play  upon  it. 
It  will  spring  from  new  conditions  and  new  forces,  act- 
ing on  people  who  have  left  all  their  traditions  and 
many  of  their  habits  behind  them,  and  have  retained 
but  little  of  that  religion  which  was  the  strongest  of 
all  powers  in  their  former  home.  Men  now  living  may 
see  this  nation,  what  with  its  growing  numbers  and 
its  wealth,  take  rank  beside  France,  Italy,  and  Spain. 
It  may  be,  in  the  New  World,  the  head  and  champion 
of  what  are  called  the  Latin  races.  Will  the  artistic 
and  literary  genius  of  Italy,  France,  and  Spain  flower 
again  in  their  transplanted  descendants,  now  that  they 
seem  to  have  at  last  emerged  from  those  long  civil 
wars  and  revolutions  which  followed  their  separation 


348 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


from  Spain  ? The  very  magnitude  of  the  interests 
which  any  fresh  civil  wars  would  endanger  furnishes  a 
security  against  their  recurrence,  and  the  temper  of  the 
people  seems  entirely  disposed  to  internal  peace.  No 
race  or  colour  questions  have  arisen,  and  religious  ques- 
tions have  ceased  to  vex  them.  They  have  ap.  agri- 
cultural area  still  undeveloped  which  for  fifty  years  to 
come  will  be  large  enough  both  to  attract  immigrants 
and  to  provide  for  the  needs  of  their  own  citizens.  Sel- 
dom has  Nature  lavished  gifts  upon  a people  with  a 
more  bountiful  hand. 


CHAPTER  X 


URUGUAY 

Whoever  wishes  to  have  something  by  which  to 
distinguish  Uruguay  from  its  many  sister  republics, 
the  size  and  character  of  each  of  which  are  unfamiliar 
to  many  of  us  in  Europe,  may  learn  to  remember 
that  it  is  the  smallest  of  the  South  American  states, 
and  that  it  has  neither  mountains,  nor  deserts,  nor 
antiquities,  nor  aboriginal  Indians.  Nevertheless,  it  is 
by  no  means  a country  to  be  described  by  negatives, 
but  has,  as  we  shall  presently  see,  a marked  character 
of  its  own. 

Having  belonged  to  the  viceroyalty  of  Buenos  Aires, 
and  being  peopled  by  men  of  the  same  pure  Spanish 
stock  as  those  who  dwelt  in  Argentina,  it  would  probably 
have  continued  to  be  a part  of  that  country  but  for 
the  fact  that,  as  it  lay  close  to  Brazil,  it  was  from  time  to 
time  occupied  and  held  by  the  Portuguese  of  that  coun- 
try, sometimes  by  conquest,  sometimes  by  formal  cession 
from  the  crown  of  Spain.  Thus  its  people,  who  had, 
when  part  of  the  Spanish  dominions,  a governor  of  their 
own  under  the  Viceroy,  began  to  acquire  a sort  of 
national  consciousness  as  a community  distinct  from 
their  fellow-countrymen  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
Rio  de  la  Plata  and  the  Uruguay  river.  They  got 
the  name  of  the  Banda  Oriental  (East  Side),  as  op- 

349 


350 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


posed  to  the  rest  of  Argentina  on  the  west  side  of  the 
Uruguay.  When  the  colonists  began,  from  1810  on- 
wards, to  assert  their  independence  of  the  crown  of 
Spain,  the  Orientales,  as  the  Uruguayans  were  then 
usually  called,  had  to  fight  their  own  battle  and  fought  it 
valiantly.  The  Portuguese  of  Brazil,  now  allying  them- 
selves with  Spain  in  defence  of  monarchy,  invaded 
the  country,  and  it  was  their  expulsion  in  1814,  as  the 
outcome  of  a long  struggle  under  the  famous  patriot 
leader  Artigas,  that  finally  set  Uruguay  free.  After  the 
Argentines  had  tried  more  than  once  to  force  her  into 
their  federation,  and  the  Portuguese  had  again  invaded 
and  occupied  the  devastated  land,  Uruguay  was  ulti- 
mately recognized  as  a sovereign  State  in  1828  by  both 
Argentina  and  Brazil,  the  latter  now  independent  of 
Portugal.  By  this  time  incessant  wars  and  sufferings 
had  formed  a distinctive  type  of  character  and  lit  up  a 
flame  of  national  feeling  which  has  burnt  strongly  ever 
since. 

With  an  area  of  only  72,000  square  miles,  as  against 
1,135,000  in  Argentina  and  3,208,000  in  Brazil,  Uruguay 
seems  like  a garden  plot  between  two  vast  estates.  But 
she  is  a veritable  garden.  There  is  hardly  an  acre  of  use- 
less ground  within  her  borders.  Except  a few  bare  hill- 
tops and  a few  sandy  stretches  on  the  coast,  all  is  avail- 
able, either  for  cattle  and  sheep,  or  for  tillage,  or  for 
forest  growth.  No  country  is  more  favoured  by  nature. 
The  surface  is  gently  undulating  along  the  sea  and  rises 
inland  into  swelling  downs  intersected  here  and  there 
by  ranges  of  hills.  The  abundant  grass  is  deemed  the 


URUGUAY 


351 


best  for  cattle  in  all  South  America,  so  for  many  years 
ranching  was  practically  the  only  industry.  Latterly, 
however,  a great  deal  of  land  has  been  brought  under 
cultivation.  Wheat  and  maize  are  the  principal 
crops,  and  there  are  now  many  vineyards.  As  the  cli- 
mate, while  generally  resembling  that  of  central  Argen- 
tina, is  tempered  by  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Atlantic, 
the  winters  are  less  cold  and  the  summers  cooler  in 
Montevideo  than  they  are  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Plate  estuary.  Further  north,  where  Uruguay  ad- 
joins Brazil,  the  midsummer  heats  are  severe  and 
the  vegetation  becomes  subtropical.  It  is  a cheerful 
country,  with  scenery  constructed,  so  to  speak,  on  a small 
scale,  as  befits  a small  republic.  Broad  uplands  of 
waving  grass,  with  here  and  there  tree  clumps,  and  in 
the  centre  and  north  of  the  country  bosky  glens  wind- 
ing through  rocky  hills,  make  the  landscape  always 
pleasing  and  sometimes  romantic.  There  are  no  great 
forests,  no  deserts,  no  volcanoes,  nothing  half  so  grand 
as  the  peaks  of  the  Argentine  Andes,  but  nothing 
half  so  monotonous  as  the  flats  of  the  Argentine 
Pampa. 

Montevideo  the  capital  has  the  same  air  of  freshness 
and  cheerfulness  which  belong  to  Uruguayan  landscape 
and  the  Uruguayan  climate.  It  has  grown  to  be  a 
great  and  prosperous  city  in  respect  of  its  port,  which 
makes  it  the  chief  seat  of  the  republic’s  commerce. 
The  estuary  of  the  River  Plate  is  much  deeper  on  this 
northern  side  than  on  the  southern,  so  large  ships 
have  always  been  able  to  approach  nearer  to  this  shore 


352 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


than  they  could  do  to  the  Argentine.  By  deepening  the 
entrance  and  running  out  breakwaters,  a good  harbour 
has  now  been  created,  accessible  to  vessels  of  excep- 
tionally deep  draught  which  could  not  (in  1910)  come 
up  to  the  docks  in  Buenos  Aires.  The  city  is  also  more 
fortunate  in  its  site,  for  the  ground,  a dead  flat  on  the 
Argentine  side,  here  rises  from  the  shore  in  a slope  steep 
enough  to  afford  fine  views  over  the  sea  and  to  enable 
the  church  towers  and  other  tall  buildings  to  present 
an  effective  sky-line. 

Montevideo,  with  its  300,000  inhabitants  against  the 
1,300,000  of  Buenos  Aires,  has  streets  by  no  means  so 
thronged  as  are  those  of  the  Argentine  capital.  Neither 
are  the  houses  quite  so  high,  nor  is  there  the  same 
sense  of  a vast  country  behind,  pouring  its  products  out 
by  this  water-gate  that  leads  to  Europe.  But  here, 
just  as  in  Buenos  Ares,  everything  is  modern.  Only 
one  public  building,  the  old  Town  Hall  in  the  chief  plaza, 
dates  from  colonial  times  and  has,  or  seems  by  its  quaint- 
ness to  have,  a sort  of  artistic  quality  which  is  absent 
from  the  work,  all  French  rather  than  Spanish  in  char- 
acter, of  the  last  sixty  years.  The  plazas  are  handsome, 
well  laid  out  and  planted,  and  the  street  architecture 
creditable,  with  fewer  contrasts  of  meanness  and  magnifi- 
cence than  one  usually  sees  in  the  growing  cities  of  North 
America.  There  is  an  absence  not  only  of  external 
squalor,  but  of  any  marks  of  poverty,  for  the  people  seem 
brisk  and  thriving,  with  plenty  of  money  coming  in.  For 
many  miles  round  the  environs  are  studded  with  taste- 
ful villas,  and  the  well-kept  roads  that  traverse  them 


URUGUAY 


353 


are  lined  by  splendid  rows  of  Australian  blue  gums. 
Three  points  of  interest  deserve  to  be  specially  men- 
tioned. One  is  the  Cerro,  an  isolated  conical  hill  on 
the  southwestern  side  of  the  bay,  opposite  the  main  city, 
and  an  object  so  conspicuous  and  picturesque  on  this 
generally  tame  coast  that  it  has  found  a place  in  the  arms 
of  the  republic.  The  castle  that  surmounts  it  has 
no  merit  as  a building,  but  the  view  is  superb 
along  the  coast  and  out  to  sea  where  the  pale  grey 
waters  of  the  Parand  and  Uruguay  meet  the  ocean  blue. 
The  second  ornament  of  the  suburbs  is  the  Botanical 
Garden.  Its  display  of  spring  flowers,  both  native  and 
European,  and  the  wonderful  variety  of  trees  from 
semitropical  and  temperate  regions,  give  a vivid  sense 
of  the  powers  of  this  admirable  climate,  not  oppressive 
in  the  blaze  of  its  sunlight,  yet  warm  enough  for  roses 
twice  as  luxuriant  as  the  best  that  Europe  can  show. 
Lastly,  there  is  a fine  collection  of  wild  animals  in  a 
garden  belonging  to  a private  gentleman  of  large  means, 
who  is  unique  in  the  personal  relations  which  his  kindly 
disposition  has  enabled  him  to  establish  with  the  crea- 
tures, even  with  the  beasts  of  prey.  There  were 
splendid  jaguars  and  pumas,  and  there  were  South 
American  ant-eaters  with  tongues  longer  than  them- 
selves. But  what  most  delighted  the  holiday  crowd, 
who  are  permitted  to  ramble  through  the  gardens,  was 
to  see  a brace  of  lion  cubs  strolling  about  in  a friendly 
way  among  men,  women,  and  children,  while  the  owner 
led  us  close  up  to  the  bars  of  the  cage  in  which  his  pet 
lion,  a superb  giant,  sat  peacefully  blinking  and  made  us 
2a 


354 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


stroke  it  and  rub  its  back.  The  lion  took  the  attention 
benignly  and  beamed  on  his  master,  but  the  attitude 
of  the  lioness  in  the  further  corner  of  the  cage  did  not 
encourage  any  such  familiarities. 

Like  Argentina,  Uruguay  is  destined  to  be  a pastoral 
and  agricultural,  not  a mining  or  manufacturing  coun- 
try. There  are  some  minerals,  including  gold,  manga- 
nese, iron,  and  coal,  but  none  of  these  is  worked  on  a 
large  scale,  and  it  has  not  yet  been  proved  that  either 
coal  or  iron  is  present  in  quantities  sufficient  to  form  the 
basis  of  any  important  industry.  Cattle  are  at  present 
the  chief  source  of  wealth,  the  export  of  meat  having 
been  greatly  increased  by  the  recently  invented  methods 
of  freezing  and  chilling.  Meat,  hides,  wool,  wheat, 
and  maize  are  likely  to  continue  to  be  the  mainstay 
of  the  country’s  prosperity ; and  as  only  about  one- 
eighth  of  the  surface  is  at  present  under  tillage,  there 
is  room  for  great  expansion.  No  better  evidence  of 
progress  can  be  furnished  than  the  extension  of  rail- 
ways. The  first  was  begun  in  1866.  There  were,  in 
1910,  1472  miles  in  operation,  and  construction  contin- 
ues to  go  briskly  forward.  The  chief  centres  of  popu- 
lation are  either  on  the  coast  or  on  the  banks  of  the 
great  navigable  river  Uruguay,  whence  cattle,  meat,  and 
wool  are  shipped. 

So  far,  therefore,  Uruguay  has  all  the  material  condi- 
tions required  for  prosperity  and  happiness,  an  abun- 
dance of  good  land,  a temperate  and  genial  climate, 
water  highways  for  traffic  provided  by  Nature  in  her 
rivers,  artificial  iron  highways  on  land,  supplied  by 


URUGUAY 


355 


enterprising  British  capitalists.  What  is  to  be  said 
of  her  inhabitants  ? 

They  were,  till  recent  years,  almost  entirely  of  Span- 
ish stock.  The  warlike  native  Indians,  one  of  whose 
tribes,  the  Charruas,  were  fierce  fighters,  having  been 
killed  off,  and  the  weaker  tribes  having  quietly  melted 
away,  very  little  aboriginal  blood  has  mingled  itself 
with  the  Iberian  stock.  Some  negroes  are  to  be  found 
along  the  Brazilian  frontier,  but  they  do  not  seem  to 
have  perceptibly  affected  the  European  element.  Of 
late  years  a stream  of  immigrants  has  flowed  in  from 
Italy,  yet  in  no  such  volume  as  toward  Argentina. 
There  is  also  a steady,  though  smaller,  inflow  from 
Spain ; among  whom  there  are,  fortunately,  many 
industrious  Basques.  Rather  more  than  a fifth  of  the 
population  are  of  foreign  birth,  a proportion  small 
compared  to  that  of  the  foreign-born  population  of 
Rhode  Island  or  Massachusetts.  These  new-comers 
will  soon  be  assimilated  and  are  not  likely  to  modify 
the  national  type. 

That  type  strikes  the  foreign  observer  as  already 
distinct  and  well  marked.  The  Uruguayan  is,  of  course, 
first  and  foremost  a Colonial  Spaniard,  but  a Spaniard 
moulded  by  the  conditions  of  his  fife  during  the  last 
ninety  years.  He  has  been  a man  of  the  country  and 
the  open  air,  strong,  active,  and  lawless,  always  in 
the  saddle  riding  after  his  cattle,  handy  with  his  lasso 
and  his  gun.  Fifty  years  ago  he  was  a Gaucho,  much 
like  his  Argentine  cousin  beyond  the  river.  Now  he,  too, 
like  that  cousin,  is  settling  down,  but  he  has  retained 


356 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


something  of  the  breezy  recklessness  and  audacity,  the 
frankness  and  free-handedness,  of  the  older  days.  A 
touch  of  this  Gaucho  quality,  in  a milder  form,  is  felt 
through  all  classes  of  Uruguayan  society.  Democratic 
equality  in  manners  is  combined  with  a high  sense  of  per- 
sonal dignity,  an  immense  hopefulness,  an  impulsive  read- 
iness to  try  all  experiments,  a national  consciousness 
none  the  less  intense  because  it  already  rejoices  over  the 
triumphs  it  is  going  to  achieve.  Whether  there  is 
more  of  “ideality  ” than  in  Argentina  I will  not  venture 
to  say,  but  there  is  less  wealth  and  less  ostentation. 
Englishmen  and  North  Americans  settled  in  Montevideo 
like  the  Uruguayans,  and  say  they  are  good  fellows. 
There  is  evidently  something  attractive  about  them 
wrhen  the  sons  of  such  settlers  grow  up  fond  of  the 
country,  willing  and  proud  to  be  its  citizens.  You  will 
hear  an  English-speaking  youth  of  either  race  say,  if 
asked  whether  he  is  an  Englishman  or  an  American, 
“I  am  an  Uruguayan.” 

While  we  were  in  Montevideo  a revolution  broke 
out  in  the  country.  There  was  sharp  fighting  about 
forty  miles  away  from  the  city  and  the  railways  were 
bringing  in  the  wounded.  It  caused  no  great  excite- 
ment, having  been  expected  for  some  weeks,  and 
the  newspapers  told  their  readers  very  little  of  what 
was  happening.  They  did  not  know  much,  for  the 
military  authorities  had  stopped  every  channel  of  com- 
munication. That,  however,  would  of  itself  have  been 
a very  poor  reason  for  not  furnishing  details.  There 
were  other  and  more  imperative  grounds  for  reticence. 


URUGUAY 


357 


We  were  unfortunately  unable  to  see  anything  and 
could  learn  little  of  the  revolution,  but  its  origin  and 
especially  the  perfect  sang-froid  of  the  Montevideans, 
both  natives  and  Englishmen,  struck  us  as  curious. 
A short  explanation  of  the  conditions  attending  such 
outbreaks  may  throw  light  on  the  phenomena  of  other 
republics  as  well  as  Uruguay. 

Ever  since  the  colonists  declared  their  independence 
of  Spain,  fighting  has  been  almost  incessant  in  this  smil- 
ing land.  They  fought  first  against  the  Spanish  troops, 
and  then  against  the  Portuguese  rulers  of  Brazil;  they 
fought  several  times  against  Argentina  and  Paraguay, 
and  almost  incessantly  against  one  another.  As  soon 
as  independence  had  been  secured  and  the  Portuguese 
finally  expelled,  the  two  leading  generals  (Rivera  and 
Oribe)  who  had  led  the  patriots  to  victory  quarrelled, 
and  before  long  were  striving  in  arms  for  the  chief 
place  in  the  republic.  Their  adherents  grew  into  two 
factions,  which  soon  divided  the  nation,  or  so  much  of 
it  as  took  an  active  interest  in  politics.  At  the  first 
battle  General  Oribe,  who  headed  one  of  the  parties,  rode 
a white  horse,  and  his  lancers  carried  white  pennons  on 
their  spearheads ; so  they  were  called  the  Blancos.  The 
followers  of  the  rival  general,  Rivera,  had  red  pennons, 
and  he  rode  a bay  horse.  They  were,  therefore,  the 
Colorados.  From  that  day  on  Uruguayans  have  been 
divided  into  Whites  and  Reds.  Seventy-five  years  had 
passed  and  the  grandsons  of  the  men  who  had  fought 
under  Oribe  and  Rivera  in  1835  were  still  fighting  in 
1910. 


358 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


For  what  have  they  been  fighting?  At  first  there 
were  no  principles  involved ; it  was  a personal  feud 
between  two  soldiers,  who  not  long  before  had  stood 
shoulder  to  shoulder  against  the  Brazilian  invader.  But 
just  as  political  parties  sometimes  drop  the  tenets  with 
which  they  started  and  yet  live  on  as  organizations,  so 
sometimes  factions  which  started  without  tenets  pick 
them  up  as  they  go  along  and  make  them  watchwords. 
A party  is  apt  to  capture  any  current  issue,  or  be  cap- 
tured by  it,  and  to  become,  thereafter,  committed  to  or 
entangled  with  it.  Thus  the  Whites  became  in  course 
of  time  the  country  party  as  opposed  to  the  Reds  of  the 
towns,  and  especially  of  Montevideo,  and  thus,  as  the 
city  is  the  home  of  new  views  and  desires  for  change, 
the  Reds  have  become  the  anticlerical  and  the  Whites 
the  church  party.  It  would  seem  that  the  colours 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  now  almost  forgotten  term 
(common  in  France  in  1848-1851)  of  the  “Red  Repub- 
lic,” but  another  sort  of  connection  with  Europe  may 
be  found  in  the  story  that  the  Garibaldian  red  shirt, 
which  figured  on  so  many  battle-fields  in  Sicily  and 
Italy,  was  due  to  Giuseppe  Garibaldi’s  having  fought 
on  the  Colorado  side,  in  1842-1846,  against  Rosas  and 
the  Argentine  invaders,  the  emblem  being  retained 
when  that  last  of  the  heroes  raised  his  standard  in  the 
Italian  revolution  of  1848.1 


1 The  account  of  the  origin  of  the  red  shirt  given  by  Mr.  G.  M. 
Trevelyan  in  his  interesting  book.  Garibaldi  and  the  Defence  of  Rome, 
is  not  quite  the  same  as  that  which  I heard  in  Uruguay,  but  not 
incompatible  therewith. 


URUGUAY 


359 


When  an  insurrection  is  planned  in  Uruguay,  word  is 
sent  round  that  its  supporters  are  to  rendezvous,  armed 
and  mounted,  at  certain  spots  on  a certain  day,  and 
when  the  government  gets  to  know  of  the  plan,  its  first 
step  is  to  seize  all  the  horses  in  the  disaffected  districts 
and  drive  them  to  a place  where  they  are  kept  under 
a strong  guard.  The  horse  is  the  life  of  a revolutionary 
movement,  a tradition  from  the  grand  old  Gaucho  days ; 
and  without  horses,  the  insurgents  are  powerless. 

The  Blancos  have  been  out  of  power  in  Uruguay 
since  1864,  but  they  hold  well  together  and  compose  an 
opposition  which  acts  by  constitutional  methods  in  the 
legislature  (when  any  of  its  partisans  can  find  an  en- 
trance) and  by  military  methods  outside  the  constitu- 
tion, in  the  open  country,  whenever  peaceful  methods 
are  deemed  useless.  The  parties  have  become  largely 
hereditary;  a child  is  born  a little  Blanco  or  a little 
Colorado,  and  rarely  deserts  his  colour.  Feeling  runs 
so  high  that  in  Blanco  districts  it  is  dangerous  for  a 
man  to  wear  a red  necktie,  just  as  in  driving  through 
certain  Irish  towns  a harmless  botanist  from  Britain 
may,  when  his  car  approaches  a particular  quarter,  be 
warned  by  the  driver  to  throw  away  or  cover  over  the 
ferns  which  he  has  gathered  in  a mountain  glen,  because 
the  sight  of  the  obnoxious  colour  will  expose  him  to  be 
stoned  by  those  who  regard  its  display  as  an  affront. 

These  revolutions,  however,  have  in  the  course  of 
years  been  tending  to  become  rather  less  frequent,  and 
certainly  less  sanguinary,  just  as  in  parts  of  South 
America  there  are  volcanoes  once  terrible  by  their  tre- 


360 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


mendous  eruptions  which  now  content  themselves  with 
throwing  out  a few  showers  of  ashes  or  discharging  a 
stream  of  lava  from  a little  crater  near  the  base.  This 
rising  ended  with  a surrender,  accompanied  by  an 
amnesty  which  included  the  absence  of  any  decree  of 
confiscation  of  property,  so  no  blood  was  shed  except 
in  the  field. 

When  I asked  what  were  the  grievances  alleged  to 
justify  the  revolt  of  November,  1910,  the  answer  was 
that  an  election  of  the  legislature  was  impending,  that 
the  new  legislature  would,  when  elected,  proceed  forth- 
with to  the  choice  of  a President  of  the  republic  for  the 
next  four  years,  that  the  Blancos  fully  expected  that 
the  elections  would  be  so  handled  by  the  government 
in  power  as  to  secure  a majority  certain  to  choose  a 
particular  candidate  whom  the  Blancos  feared  and  dis- 
liked, and  that  therefore  the  only  course  open  to  the 
latter  was  to  avert  by  an  appeal  to  arms  the  wrong 
which  would  be  done  to  the  nation  by  tampering  with 
the  rights  of  the  electors.  How  much  truth  there  may 
have  been  in  these  allegations  the  passing  traveller  could 
not  know,  nor  was  it  for  him  to  judge  whether,  if  true, 
they  would  warrant  an  appeal  to  force. 

The  conditions  in  some  Latin-American  republics  are 
peculiar,  and  can  be  paralleled  only  in  one  or  two  other 
parts  of  the  modern  world.  In  the  years  between  1848 
and  1859  when  despotic  governments  held  sway  in 
most  parts  of  Europe,  the  ingenuous  youth  of  Britain 
used  to  assume,  as  Thomas  Jefferson  had  done  fifty 
years  before,  that  every  insurrection  was  presumably 


URUGUAY 


361 


justifiable  and  entitled  to  the  sympathy  of  all  lovers 
of  freedom.  Of  recent  years,  since  constitutional  gov- 
ernments have  been  established  in  nearly  all  countries, 
the  presumption  is  deemed  to  be  the  other  way,  and 
revolts  are  prima  facie  disapproved.  In  some  American 
republics,  however,  — and  here  I am  speaking  not  of 
Uruguay,  but  of  more  backward  communities,  — there 
is  no  presumption  at  all  either  way.  A government  in 
Nicaragua  or  Honduras,  for  instance,  has  usually  ob- 
tained power  either  by  force  of  arms  or  by  a mock  elec- 
tion carried  through  under  military  pressure.  To  eject 
it  by  similar  means  is,  therefore,  in  the  eye  of  a consti- 
tutional lawyer,  not  a breach  of  law  and  order,  because 
the  government  which  it  is  sought  to  eject  has  no  legal 
title,  being  itself  the  child  of  wrongdoing.  On  the  other 
hand  the  insurgents  are  probably  no  better  friends  of 
law  and  order  than  is  the  government.  If  they  succeed 
by  arms,  they  will  not  hold  an  honest  election,  but  will 
rule  by  force,  just  as  did  their  predecessors.  There  is, 
accordingly,  no  ground  for  the  award  of  sympathy  or 
moral  approval  to  either  faction,  while  for  foreign  powers 
the  problem  of  when  to  recognize  a government  that  has 
come  in  by  the  sword,  and  will  presently,  like  the  Priest 
of  the  Grove  at  Nemi,  perish  by  the  sword,  is  no  easy 
one,  and  must  usually  be  solved  by  waiting  till  such  a 
government  has  made  itself  so  clearly  master  of  the  sit- 
uation as  to  possess  a de  facto  title  likely  to  hold  good 
for  some  time  to  come,  and  perhaps  ultimately  pass 
into  a title  de  iure.1 

1 Such  legal  or  quasi-legal  questions  have  arisen  several  times  in 
Central  America. 


362 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Reverting  to  Uruguay,  the  most  curious  and  histori- 
cally instructive  feature  of  her  case  is  that  these  re- 
current civil  wars  and  attempts  at  revolution  do  not 
seem  to  have  retarded  her  prosperity.  She  saw  more 
incessant  fighting  from  1810  till  1876  than  any  other 
part  of  the  world  has  seen  for  the  last  hundred'  years. 
Even  since  then  risings  and  conflicts  have  been  fre- 
quent, and  though  there  has  been  no  foreign  war  since 
1870,  when  that  with  Paraguay  ended,  the  presence 
on  either  side  of  two  great  powers,  not  always  friendly 
to  her  or  to  each  other,  has  often  caused  anxiety. 
Nevertheless,  the  country  has  continued  to  grow  in 
wealth  and  population.  Capital  has  flowed  in  freely  to 
build  railways,  and  the  good  opinion  which  European 
investors  entertain  is  shewn  by  the  fact  that  the  Uru- 
guayan five  per  cent  bonds  average  just  about  par  in 
the  London  stock  market.  Foreign  trade  has  increased 
fivefold  since  1862.  Without  forsaking  their  love  of 
fighting,  the  people  have  turned  to  work,  and  the  land 
or  cattle  owner  depends  less  on  foreign  labour  than  he 
does  in  Argentina.  Thus  it  would  seem  that  as  there 
have  been  countries  ruined  by  war  — as  Central  Asia 
Minor  was  by  the  long  strife  between  the  Seljukian 
Turks  and  the  East  Roman  Emperors,  and  as  Ger- 
many suffered  from  the  Thirty  Years’  War  injuries 
it  cost  her  nearty  two  centuries  to  repair,  so  there 
are  countries  which  have  thriven  in  the  midst  of 
war.  In  the  sixth  and  fifth  centuries  b.c.  the  Greek 
cities  of  Sicily  were  seldom  at  peace.  They  fought 
with  the  Carthaginians,  they  fought  with  one  another, 


URUGUAY 


363 


they  fought  for  or  against  a Tyrant  within  their  own 
walls ; and  all  this  fighting  was  done  by  citizen  soldiers. 
Yet  they  throve  and  erected  those  majestic  temples 
whose  ruins  we  admire  at  Girgenti  and  Selinunte,  while 
the  iron  peace  of  Rome  in  those  later  days,  when  the 
island  had  been  made  a province,  brought  to  the  country 
folk  misery  interrupted  only  by  servile  insurrections. 

The  occasional  recurrence  of  such  incidents  as  that  of 
November,  1910,  had  not  for  some  years  prior  to  my 
visit  prevented  the  government  of  Uruguay  from 
emulating  that  of  Argentina  in  efforts  to  keep  abreast 
of  Europe  in  all  sorts  of  administrative  schemes  for  the 
advancement  of  education,  and  for  the  development 
of  the  country.  In  two  respects  it  has  entered  on  a pol- 
icy different  from  that  of  other  South  American  states. 
It  is  the  only  one  in  which  schemes  or  ideas  tending 
towards  state  socialism  have  been  countenanced  by  the 
Executive,  and  it  is  also  the  only  one  in  which  there  is 
a distinctly  antireligious  party.  In  Peru  the  church 
has  still  some  political  influence.  In  Chile  she  has  less, 
in  Argentina  practically  none,  but  in  neither  is  she  the 
object  of  hostility.  Here,  however,  a section  of  the 
dominant  party  is  professedly  antagonistic  to  the  church, 
and  this  would  seem  to  be  due  not  to  any  provocation 
given  recently  by  the  clergy,  whose  Blanco  friends  have 
been  long  out  of  power,  but  rather  to  a spirit  which 
sfeeks  to  strike  at  and  eliminate  religion  itself. 

Such  a movement  does  not  seem,  any  more  than  do 
socialistic  ideas,  to  be  a natural  growth  of  the  Uru- 
guayan soil.  Just  as  the  anarchistic  propaganda  in 


364 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Argentina  has  been  recently  brought  thither  from  Eu- 
rope by  immigrants,  so  this  less  fierce  expression  of  the 
revolutionary  spirit  bears  marks  of  having  been  trans- 
planted from  those  parts  of  southern  Europe  where  the 
more  violent  advocates  of  change  regard  not  only  the 
Roman  Church,  but  religion  itself,  as  hostile  to  progress 
and  to  the  reconstruction  of  society  on  a new  basis. 
The  rural  population  of  Uruguay  are  not  the  sort  of 
people  among  whom  such  ideas  would  spontaneously 
arise,  for  they  belong,  so  far  as  their  beliefs  and  views 
of  life  are  concerned,  rather  to  the  eighteenth  than  to 
the  twentieth  century.  Elsewhere  in  South  America, 
enmity  to  the  church  has  been  due  to  the  power  she 
has  exercised  in  the  secular  world,  or  to  the  memory  of 
her  old  habits  of  repression.  One  does  not  hear,  how- 
ever, that  she  has  for  a long  time  past  been  politically 
obnoxious  here ; nor  can  there  have  been  any  memories 
of  serious  persecution  to  provoke  hatred,  for  the  era  of 
persecution  was  passing  away  when  these  regions  be- 
gan to  be  thickly  settled. 

With  her  temperate  climate  and  her  fertile  soil,  Uru- 
guay is  an  attractive  country.  In  no  part  of  South 
America,  except  perhaps  southern  Chile,  would  a Euro- 
pean feel  more  disposed  to  settle  down  for  life.  The  peo- 
ple are  of  pure  European  stock  and  have  many  of  the 
qualities  — frankness  and  energy,  courage,  and  a high 
sense  of  honour  — which  make  for  political  progress. 
The  country  is  no  doubt  comparatively  small,  and  it  is 
the  fashion  nowadays  to  worship  bigness  and  disparage 
small  nations.  Yet  the  independent  city  communities, 


URUGUAY 


365 


or  the  small  nations  — such  as  were  England  and  Hol- 
land in  the  seventeenth  century  — have  produced  not 
only  most  of  the  best  literature  and  art,  but  most  of 
the  great  men  and  great  achievements  which  history 
records.  National  life  is  apt  to  be  more  intense  and 
more  interesting  where  it  is  concentrated  in  an  area 
not  so  wide  as  to  forbid  the  people  to  know  one  another 
and  their  leaders.  Thus  one  cannot  but  hope  that  the 
Uruguayans,  with  some  favouring  conditions,  and  with- 
out the  disadvantage  of  excessive  wealth  suddenly  ac- 
quired, will  seriously  endeavour  to  smooth  the  road, 
now  rough  and  dangerous,  over  which  the  chariot  of 
their  republican  government  has  to  travel.  It  is  not 
the  Constitution  that  is  at  fault,  but  the  way  in  which 
the  Constitution  is  worked.  The  backward  state  of 
education  and  consequent  incompetence  of  the  ordinary 
citizen  is  usually  assigned  as  the  source  of  political 
troubles.  There  is  certainly  an  inadequate  provision 
both  here  and  generally  in  South  America  of  elemen- 
tary and  secondary  schools.  But  the  experience  of 
many  countries  has  shewn  that  the  education  of  the 
masses  is  not  enough  to  secure  a reform  in  political 
methods.  There  is  surely  force  in  the  view  I heard 
expressed,  that  if  the  whole  population,  or  even  the 
whole  of  the  educated  class  in  the  population,  were  to 
exert  themselves  to  take  more  active  part  in  politics, 
they  could  set  things  right  by  checking  the  abuses  or 
grievances  out  of  which  revolutions  grow  and  by  mod- 
erating the  party  spirit  which  rushes  to  arms  when 
grievances  remain  unredressed. 


CHAPTER  XI 


BRAZIL 

/ 

That  more  than  half  of  South  America  was  settled 
by  and  still  belongs  to  the  men  of  Portugal  is  due  to 
what  may  be  called  an  historical  accident.  In  the 
year  following  the  discovery  of  the  West  Indies  by 
Columbus,  Pope  Alexander  the  Sixth  issued  his  famous 
Bull  (a.d.  1493)  which  assigned  to  the  Crown  of  Castile 
and  Leon  “ all  the  islands  and  lands  to  be  discovered  in 
the  seas  to  the  west  and  the  south  of  a meridian  line  to 
be  drawn  from  the  Arctic  to  the  Antarctic  Pole,  one 
hundred  leagues  to  the  west  of  Cape  Verde  and  the 
Azores.”  Though  there  is  in  the  Bull  no  mention  of 
Portugal,  it  was  intended  to  reserve  the  rights  of 
Portugal  in  whatever  she  had  discovered  or  might  dis- 
cover on  the  other,  i.e.  the  eastern,  side  of  the  line  of 
delimitation.  The  Portuguese,  however,  were  not  sat- 
isfied, and  next  year  a treaty  between  Spain  and  Por- 
tugal moved  the  line  three  hundred  and  seventy  leagues 
farther  west.  This  had  the  effect,  as  discovery  pro- 
gressed, of  giving  to  Portugal  the  eastern,  to  Spain  the 
western,  part  of  the  Continent  which  was  first  touched 
by  Columbus  in  his  third  voyage  (1498).  Now  it  so 
happened  that  one  of  the  first  navigators  who  actually 
saw  that  eastern  part  was  a Portuguese,  named  Cabral. 
Driven  out  of  his  course  while  sailing  for  India,  in  a.d. 

366 


BRAZIL 


367 


1500,  he  touched  the  South  American  coast,  in  latitude 
8°  south,  and  took  possession  of  it  in  the  name  of  his 
sovereign.  A few  months  earlier  the  Spanish  sailor, 
Pinzon,  had  struck  the  same  coast  and  had  taken  pos- 
session of  it  for  Spain,  but  as  Spain  had  plenty  of  dis- 
covered land  already,  and  did  not  care  to  depart  from 
her  treaty  of  1494,  the  territory  was  left  to  Portugal. 
Both  nations  had  recognized  the  Pope  as  the  authority 
entitled  to  dispose  of  all  new-found  lands,  and  possibly 
they  may  have  supposed  in  1500  that  these  new  lands 
were  part  of  the  same  Indies  which  Portugal  had 
reached  by  the  eastern  route  in  1498,  six  years  after 
Columbus  had,  as  was  then  supposed,  reached  them 
by  the  western.1  Thus  Brazil  became  and  has  ever 
since  remained  a Portuguese  country,  except  during 
the  eclipse  of  Portugal,  when,  after  the  death  of  King 
Sebastian,  it  fell  for  a time  under  the  Crown  of 
Spain. 

The  area  of  Brazil  is  about  3,300,000  square  miles, 
larger  than  that  of  the  United  States,  and  more  than 
double  that  of  India.  Most  of  its  territory  is  inhabited 
only  by  aboriginal  Indians,  many  of  them  wild  savages, 
and  a good  deal  is  still  practically  unexplored.  As  I saw, 
and  can  attempt  to  describe,  only  a very  small  part, 
it  may  be  proper,  lest  any  reader  should  fancy  that 
particular  part  to  be  typical  of  the  whole,  to  sketch  very 
briefly  the  general  features  of  the  country. 

1 This  question  is  involved  with  that  relating  to  the  voyages, 
real  or  alleged,  of  Americus  Vespuccius  in  1497,  and  is  too  intricate 
to  be  discussed  here. 


368 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


It  is  geologically  one  of  the  oldest  parts  of  the  South 
American  Continent.  The  mountains  which  form  its 
central  nucleus  stood  where  they  stand  now  long  before 
the  great  volcanoes  of  the  Andes,  such  as  Aconcagua 
and  Chimborazo,  had  been  raised.  This  mountain  cen- 
tre of  the  country  falls  abruptly  on  the  east  to^the  At- 
lantic, more  gently  on  the  west  towards  the  level  ground 
in  the  middle  of  the  Continent,  and  is  composed  of  an- 
cient crystalline  rocks,  which  have  probably  been  re- 
duced from  a much  greater  height  by  the  action  of  rain, 
sun,  and  wind,  continued  through  countless  ages.  It 
may  be  roughly  described  as  an  undulating  plateau,  800 
miles  long  by  300  broad,  traversed  by  various  ranges 
which  are  seldom  of  great  height.  Their  loftiest  summit 
is  Italiaya,  about  fifty  miles  to  the  southwest  of  Rio  de 
Janeiro  and  nearly  10,000  feet  high.  Few  exceed  7000 
feet,  while  the  average  elevation  of  the  highlands  as  a 
whole  is  from  2000  to  3000.  The  scenery  of  their  richly 
wooded  eastern  side,  where  they  break  down  steeply 
towards  the  Atlantic,  is  as  beautiful  as  can  be  found 
anywhere  in  the  tropics.  They  are  continued  northward 
and  southward  in  lower  hills,  and  on  the  west  sub- 
side gently,  sometimes  in  long  slopes,  sometimes  in  a 
succession  of  broad  terraces,  into  a vast  plain,  only 
slightly  raised  above  sea-level,  from  which  streams 
flow  southward  into  the  Parana,  northward  into  the 
Amazon.  In  this  plain,  still  imperfectly  explored, 
Brazil  touches  Paraguay  and  Bolivia.  The  inland 
regions,  both  highlands  and  plains,  are  less  humid 
and,  therefore,  less  densely  wooded  than  is  the  line  of 


BRAZIL 


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mountains  which  faces  the  Atlantic,  the  climate  stead- 
ily growing  drier  as  one  goes  inland  from  the  rain-giving 
ocean.  Large  parts  of  them  are  believed  to  be  fit  only 
for  ranching,  but  settlement  has  in  the  western  districts 
not  gone  far  enough  to  determine  their  capacity  for 
agriculture,  though  it  is  known  that  some  are  unprofit- 
able because  marshy  and  others  because  sandy.  On 
the  other  hand  the  country  south  of  latitude  20°  is  for 
the  most  part  fertile  and  well  watered,  and  more  de- 
veloped than  any  other  part  of  Brazil  except  the  coast 
strip. 

There  remains  another  and  still  larger  region  which 
lies  in  the  northwest  part  of  the  republic ; I mean  the 
vast  plain  of  the  Amazon  and  its  tributaries.  It  is 
the  so-called  Selvas,  or  woodland  country,  covered 
everywhere  by  a dense  forest  and  for  part  of  the  year 
so  flooded  by  the  tropical  rains  which  raise  its  rivers 
above  their  banks  that  much  of  it  can  be  trav- 
ersed only  in  boats.  Except  for  a few  white  settle- 
ments here  and  there,  its  sole  inhabitants  are  the  un- 
civilized Indian  tribes,  of  whom  there  may  be  several 
hundred  thousands  in  all,  a number  very  small  when 
compared  to  the  space  over  which  they  are  scattered. 
To  these  Selvas  and  their  possible  future  I shall  re- 
turn.1 Meanwhile  the  reader  will  have  gathered  that : 
(1)  The  whole  eastern  part  of  Brazil  from  latitude  5° 
south  to  latitude  30°  south  is  mountainous  or  undulat- 
ing, with  here  and  there  wide  valleys.  All  of  this  country 
is  valuable  either  for  cultivation,  for  pasture,  or  for  tim- 


2b 


1 See  Chapter  XVI,  post. 


370 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ber,  and  it  contains  rich  mines.  (2)  The  western  part 
and  the  whole  plain  of  the  Amazon  and  its  tributaries 
is  practically  quite  flat,  and  most  of  it  is  a forest  wil- 
derness. (3)  Though  there  are  some  arid  districts  along 
the  coast  north  and  south  of  the  mouth  of  the  Amazon, 
there  are  nowhere  in  Brazil  such  deserts  as  those  which 
cover  so  large  a space  in  Peru,  Bolivia,  Chile,  and 
Argentina.  (4)  The  only  parts  that  are  as  yet  com- 
paratively well-peopled  are  the  coast  strip  and  the  fertile 
valleys  debouching  on  that  strip,  some  inland  districts 
in  the  state  of  Minas  Geraes,  and  in  the  southern  states 
of  Sao  Paulo,  Santa  Catharina,  and  Rio  Grande  do  Sul. 
Even  in  these  the  population  is  still  far  below  the  ca- 
pacities of  the  country. 

I have  made  these  few  remarks  in  order  to  give  the 
reader  some  notion  of  the  general  features  of  this  im- 
mense country.  The  only  parts  I saw  were  on  the  east 
coast ; and  these  I shall  try  to  describe  before  returning 
to  a discussion  of  the  people  and  prospects  of  Brazil  as 
a whole. 

The  south  Atlantic  all  the  way  from  Buenos  Aires 
to  the  Amazon  has  the  credit  of  giving  passages 
as  smooth  and  pleasant  as  any  in  the  world.  Very 
different  was  our  experience  between  Montevideo  and 
Santos,  for  there  was  some  rain,  more  wind,  and  quite 
a heavy  sea,  with  weather  so  thick  that  little  could  be 
seen  of  the  coast  along  which  we  sailed.  We  were,  of 
course,  told  that  it  was  “quite  exceptional  weather,” 
but  old  travellers  know  that  nothing  is  commoner  than 
exceptional  weather. 


BRAZIL 


M 


371 


When  at  last  our  steamer,  rounding  a lofty  cape, 
turned  her  prow  shoreward  to  enter  the  harbour  of 
Santos,  how  unlike  was  the  landscape  to  any  which 
we  had  seen  since  passing  the  Equator  at  the  north- 
ern extremity  of  Peru.  All  down  the  west  coast 
there  had  been  a stern  and  mostly  barren  coast, 
with  cold  grey  clouds  over  a cold  grey  sea.  But 
here  at  last  were  the  tropics.  Here  was  the  region 
of  abundant  and  luxuriant  vegetation,  a soft,  moist 
air  and  a sea  of  vivid  blue,  with  the  strange  thin- 
bodied, long-winged  frigate  birds  hovering  above  it.  As 
we  came  near  enough  to  see  the  waves  foaming  on  the 
rocks,  an  amphitheatre  of  mountains  was  disclosed,  sur- 
rounding the  broad,  flat  valley  through  which  a river 
descends  to  form  the  port  of  Santos.  To  the  north 
there  ran  along  the  coast  a line  of  lofty  promontories 
against  which  the  surges  rose.  The  mountains  be- 
hind, all  densely  wooded,  were  shrouded  with  heavy 
mists,  but  the  sun  bathed  in  light  the  banks  of  the 
river,  covered  with  low  trees  and  flowering  shrubs,  and 
the  gaily  painted  houses  of  the  suburb  which  stretches 
out  from  the  town  of  Santos,  embowered  in  palm 
groves,  to  the  white  sands  of  the  ocean  beach. 

Moving  slowly  up  the  winding  channel  into 
smooth  water,  we  found  many  British  and  German 
ships  lying  at  the  wharves,  for  the  harbour  has 
now  been  so  deepened  as  to  admit  large  steamers,  and 
its  improvements,  accompanied  by  draining  opera- 
tions, have  made  the  place  reasonably  healthy. 
Twenty  years  ago  it  was  a nest  of  yellow  fever.  I was 


372 


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told  that  once,  during  an  inroad  of  that  plague,  forty- 
three  British  ships  were  lying  idle  in  the  river  with 
their  crews  all  dead  or  dying.  Now  the  disease  has 
practically  disappeared,  and  the  port  is  one  of  the 
busiest  in  South  America,  since  it  is  the  exporting 
centre  for  the  produce  of  the  vast  coffee  country  which 
lies  inland.  All  day  long,  and  during  the  night,  too, 
at  some  seasons,  an  endless  string  of  stalwart  porters 
may  be  seen  carrying  sacks  of  coffee  from  the  railroad 
cars  on  the  wharf  to  the  ships  lying  alongside.  In  1910 
coffee  to  the  value  of  nearly  £19,000,000  ($93,107,000) 
was  exported  from  Santos,  more  than  half  of  what 
went  out  of  Brazil  to  all  quarters  of  the  globe. 

Such  a trade  gives  plenty  of  traffic  to  the  railway 
which  connects  the  coffee-planting  interior  and  the 
thriving  city  of  Sao  Paulo  with  the  sea.  It  is  quite  a 
remarkable  railway.  First  built  in  1867,  its  most 
difficult  portion,  which  climbs  a very  steep  slope,  was 
laid  out  afresh  along  a better  line  between  1895  and 
1901,  and  is  a really  skilful  and  interesting  piece  of  engi- 
neering performed  for  a British  company  by  British 
engineers  and  contractors.  As  was  observed  a few 
pages  back,  there  lies  behind  this  part  of  the  Brazilian 
coast  a plateau,  here  averaging  from  2500  to  3000  feet 
in  height,  which  breaks  down  abruptly  to  the  sea.  The 
edge  of  the  plateau,  which,  from  below,  appears  like  a 
mountain  range,  is  called  the  Serra  do  Mar  (Sea  Range). 
To  reach  the  plateau  from  the  flats  at  sea-level  it  was 
necessary  to  ascend  some  2500  feet,  and  this  had  to  be 
done  in  a distance  of  about  six  miles,  which  means  an 


BRAZIL 


373 


average  gradient  of  about  eight  per  cent  from  the  bottom 
to  the  top  of  the  slope.  The  line  has  accordingly  been 
constructed  in  a series  of  five  inclines,  on  which  the  trains 
are  worked  by  wire-rope  haulage,  each  incline  having  its 
own  power-house  and  haulage  plant,  and  safety  being 
secured  not  only  by  the  “locomotive  brake”  which  is 
attached  as  a last  car  to  each  ascending  and  descending 
train,  but  also  by  the  simultaneous  descent  and  ascent 
of  trains  each  way,  and  other  devices  too  numerous  to 
describe.  These,  taken  together,  are  sufficient  to  en- 
sure perfect  safety.  The  extraordinary  completeness  and 
finish  of  every  part  not  only  of  the  roadbed  and  rails,  but 
also  of  the  stations  and  other  buildings,  and  of  the  iron 
bridges  and  the  thirteen  tunnels,  together  with  the  neatly 
set  tile  drains  which  have  been  laid  down  the  slopes  to 
carry  off  in  channels  the  rainwater  which  might  other- 
wise dislodge  loose  earth  from  above  and  weaken  the 
embankments  below,  — all  these  things  witness  to  the 
unusual  success  and  prosperity  of  the  line  as  a business 
undertaking.  It  has  been  the  best-paying  one,  next 
to  that  at  Panama,  in  South  America.  Since  the 
dividend  assignable  to  the  shareholders  is  restricted,  the 
directors  spend  their  surplus  in  securing  not  only  effi- 
ciency and  security,  but  even  elegance.  The  saying, 
current  among  Europeans  in  Brazil,  is  that  the  only 
thing  that  remains  to  be  done  upon  the  Sao  Paulo  and 
Santos  fine  is  to  gild  the  tops  of  the  telegraph  poles. 

The  scenery,  which  we  saw  to  advantage  from  seats 
placed  in  front  of  the  leading  car,  is  extremely  beautiful 
as  the  train  winds  along  steep  slopes  from  which  one 


374 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


looks  down  into  richly  wooded  glens,  with  tiny  water- 
falls descending  through  ravines  amid  a profusion  of  tall 
ferns.  It  is  a very  wet  bit  of  country,  and  before  reach- 
ing the  top,  we  were  enveloped  in  clouds  and  heavy  rain, 
and  so  lost  what  are  perhaps  the  finest  views,  those  look- 
ing back  from  the  higher  levels  down  the  main  valley 
and  out  to  the  now  distant,  ocean.  On  the  top  one 
seemed  suddenly  to  lose  sight  of  the  mountains,  for  we 
came  out  upon  level  ground  without  any  descent  to 
the  other  side  of  the  hill.  The  weather  cleared,  and 
across  a sparsely  wooded  undulating  plain,  in  some 
parts  open  moorland,  in  other  parts  under  tillage, 
we  could  descry  distant  peaks  that  rose  sharp  and  clear 
in  the  less  humid  air.  Whoever  has  travelled  from 
north  to  south  in  Spain  will  remember  a similarly 
abrupt  transition  when  the  railway,  after  climbing  the 
mountains  south  of  Santander,  dripping  with  the  rain- 
storms that  constantly  drive  in  from  the  Bay  of  Biscay, 
emerges  on  the  bare  dry  plateau  of  Old  Castile. 

The  train,  speeding  along  the  perfectly  smooth  road- 
bed which  this  gilt-edged  railroad  boasts,  brought  us 
after  fifty  miles  to  the  city  of  Sao  Paulo,  the  briskest 
and  most  progressive  place  in  all  Brazil,  though  with 
less  than  half  the  population  of  Rio  de  Janeiro.  It  is  one 
of  the  oldest  towns  in  the  country,  founded  in  1553  by  a 
Jesuit  missionary.  The  early  settlers,  many  of  whom 
intermarried  with  the  native  Indians,  became  the  par- 
ents of  a singularly  bold  and  energetic  race,  who,  in  their 
search  for  gold  and  silver,  explored  the  land  and  raided 
the  Indians  and  whites,  too,  if  there  were  any,  all  the  way 


BRAZIL 


375 


down  from  here  to  the  Uruguay  and  Parand  rivers.  In 
those  days  the  Portuguese  government  at  Bahia,  far  off 
and  weak,  seldom  interfered  with  its  subjects.  The  free 
spirit  of  these  “Paulistas”  has  passed  to  their  descen- 
dants. Living  in  healthy  uplands,  they  have  shewn  more 
industrial  and  political  activity  than  the  people  of  any 
other  state  in  the  federation.  Since  1875  the  planting 
of  enormous  tracts  of  land  with  coffee  has  rapidly  raised 
the  wealth  of  the  region,  and  this  city,  being  its  heart 
and  centre,  has  risen  in  sixty  years  from  a small  country 
town  to  be  a place  of  four  hundred  thousand  inhabitants. 

It  stands  upon  several  hills,  from  the  highest  of 
which  there  are  charming  views  to  the  picturesque 
ranges  to  the  north  and  along  the  valley  of  its  river, 
the  Tiete.  Rising  only  thirty  miles  from  the  sea, 
this  stream  flows  away  northwestward  to  join  the 
Parand  and  enter  the  ocean  above  Buenos  Aires,  the 
slope  of  all  this  region,  so  soon  as  one  has  crossed  the 
Serra  do  Mar,  being  from  east  to  west.  The  city  has 
grown  so  fast  as  to  shew  few  traces  of  its  antiquity,  except 
in  the  centre,  where  the  narrow  and  crooked  streets 
of  the  business  quarter  have  a picturesque  variety  rarely 
found  in  the  rectangular  towns  of  the  New  World.  The 
alert  faces,  and  the  air  of  stir  and  movement,  as  well  as 
handsome  public  buildings  rising  on  all  hands,  with  a 
large,  well-planted  public  garden  in  the  middle  of  the  city, 
give  the  impression  of  energy  and  progress.  This  plateau 
air  is  keen  and  bright,  and,  though  the  summer  sun  was 
strong,  for  we  were  in  mid  November,  the  nights  were 
cool,  and  the  winter,  which  sometimes  brings  slight  frosts, 


376 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


restores  men  to  physical  vigour.  We  drove  out  a few 
miles  to  see  the  Independence  Building,  a tall  pile,  which 
from  its  hilltop  looks  over  a wide  stretch  of  rolling  coun- 
try. It  was  erected  to  commemorate  the  revolt  of  Brazil 
from  Portugal  in  1822,  and  contains  what  is  one  of  the 
largest  fresco  paintings  in  the  world,  shewing  Don!  Pedro 
of  Braganza,  then  Regent  of  Brazil,  surrounded  by  his 
generals,  proclaiming  the  independence  of  the  na- 
tion, a spirited  if  somewhat  theatrical  composition. 
There  is  a collection  of  objects  of  natural  history,  as 
well  as  of  native  weapons  and  ornaments,  but  both  here 
and  elsewhere  in  Brazil,  and,  indeed,  generally  in  South 
America,  one  is  struck  by  the  small  amount  of  interest 
shewn  in  all  branches  of  knowledge,  except  such  as  have 
a direct  practical  bearing  and  pecuniary  value.  Con- 
sidering the  enormous  field  of  research  which  this 
Continent  presents,  and  what  advances  have  been 
made  in  scientific  natural  history  during  the  last  sixty 
years,  far  too  little  is  being  done  to  gather  or  to  arrange 
and  classify  specimens  illustrative  either  of  the  world  of 
nature  or  of  prehistoric  and  savage  man.  The  collections 
are  for  the  most  part  inferior  to  what  European  muse- 
ums were  seventy  years  ago.  Let  it  be  said,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  the  state  of  Sao  Paulo  has  set  an  admirable 
example  to  the  rest  of  Brazil  in  the  liberal  provision  it 
is  making  for  elementary  schools. 

Many  immigrants  from  Italy  have  in  the  last  decade 
entered  the  state  and  the  city,  and  now  by  their  labour 
contribute  largely  to  the  prosperity  of  both.  Negroes 
are  comparatively  few ; it  is  these  Italians  that  do  the 


BRAZIL 


377 


most  and  the  best  of  the  work.  The  larger  business,  both 
commercial  and  industrial,  for  there  are  now  a good 
many  factories,  is  chiefly  in  the  hands  of  foreigners, 
Italians,  Germans,  and  English,  with  a few  French,  a 
state  of  things  which  accelerates  material  progress  and 
leaves  the  native  or  Portuguese  Brazilians  more  free  to 
devote  themselves  to  politics,  a sphere  of  action  into 
which,  as  already  observed,  the  modern  Paulistas  have 
carried  the  energy  of  their  ancestors.  The  state  is  not 
only  the  most  prosperous,  but  politically  the  most  influ- 
ential, in  the  republic.  One  way  or  another,  what  with 
Paulistas  and  foreigners,  city  and  state  are  vigorous  com- 
munities, and  to  see  them  disabuses  the  traveller  of  the 
common  belief  that  the  South  Americans  are  slack  and 
inert. 

The  railway  — a government  line  — from  Sao  Paulo 
to  Rio  runs  at  first  through  that  high,  rolling  country 
which  lies  behind  the  escarpment  facing  to  the  coast.  Its 
variety  of  surface,  and  its  patches  of  woodland,  the  trees 
handsome  though  seldom  tall,  make  it  very  pretty,  and 
there  are  glimpses  of  the  mountain  range  to  the  west,  one 
of  whose  summits  is  the  loftiest  in  all  Brazil.  The  line, 
as  it  approaches  the  coast,  begins  to  descend,  running 
along  the  edge  of  deep  gorges,  where  the  bright  green 
herbage  and  luxuriant  growths  of  shrubs  and  ferns 
contrast  with  the  deep  red  of  the  soil  produced  by 
the  decomposition  of  granitic  rocks.  After  the  arid 
severity  of  the  Andean  valleys  of  Argentina  and 
Bolivia,  and  the  sternness  of  chilly  Patagonia,  there 
was  something  cheering  in  this  exuberance  of  vege- 


378 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tation,  this  sense  that  Nature  is  doing  her  best  to  give 
man  a chance  to  live  easily  and  happily.  The  train 
sweeps  down  a long  ravine,  and  passes  many  a water- 
fall, till  at  last  the  ravine  becomes  a wide  valley  and 
opens  into  the  outskirts  of  Rio  de  Janeiro. 

How  is  one  to  describe  Rio?  I had  read  a score  of 
descriptions,  yet  none  of  them  had  prepared  me  for  the 
reality.  Why  should  a twenty-first  description  be  any 
more  successful  ? Its  bay  has  been  compared  to  the  bays 
of  Naples,  of  Palermo,  of  Sydney,  of  San  Francisco,  of 
Hongkong,  and  of  Bombay,  as  well  as  to  the  Bosphorus. 
It  is  not  in  the  least  like  any  of  these,  except  in  being 
beautiful,  nor,  I should  fancy,  is  it  like  any  other  place 
in  the  world.  Suppose  the  bottom  of  the  Yosemite 
Valley,  or  that  of  the  valley  of  Auronzo  in  the  Venetian 
Alps,  filled  with  water,  and  the  effect  would  be  some- 
thing like  the  bay  of  Rio.  Yet  the  superb  vegetation 
would  be  wanting,  and  the  views  to  far-away  mountains, 
and  the  sense  of  the  presence  of  the  blue  ocean  outside 
the  capes  that  guard  the  entrance. 

The  name  (River  of  January)  suggests  a river,  but 
this  was  a mistake  of  the  Portuguese  discoverers,  for 
nothing  but  trifling  streams  enter  this  great  inlet.  It 
is  a landlocked  gulf,  twenty  miles  long  and  from  five 
to  ten  miles  wide,  approached  from  the  ocean  through  a 
channel  less  than  a mile  wide  between  rocky  promontories 
upon  which  forts  have  been  erected.  On  the  north  side, 
inside  the  entrance,  is  the  town  of  Nictheroy,  whose  name 
commemorates  a long-extinct  tribe  of  Indians.  Bold 
rocky  isles  lie  in  front  of  it  and  high  hills  rise  behind. 


BRAZIL 


379 


The  city  of  Rio  lies  upon  the  south  side  of  the  gulf,  the 
great  bulk  of  it  inside,  though  two  or  three  suburbs  have 
now  grown  up  which  stretch  across  a neck  of  land  to  the 
ocean.  It  runs  along  the  shore  for  five  or  six  miles,  oc- 
cupying all  the  space  between  the  water  and  the  moun- 
tains behind,  and  cut  up  into  several  sections  by  steep 
ridges  which  come  down  from  the  mountains  and  jut  out 
into  the  water.  The  coast-line  is  extremely  irregular, 
for  between  these  jutting  promontories  it  recedes  into 
inlets,  so  that  when  one  looks  at  Rio,  either  from 
offshore  in  front  or  from  the  mountain  tops  behind,  it 
seems  like  a succession  of  towns  planted  around  inlets 
and  divided  from  one  another  by  wooded  heights.  All 
these  sections  are  connected  by  a line  of  avenues 
running  nearly  parallel  to  the  coast,  so  that  the  city 
sometimes  narrows  to  a couple  of  hundred  yards, 
sometimes  widens  out  where  there  is  a level  space 
between  the  water  and  the  hills,  sometimes  climbs 
the  hill  slopes,  and  mingles  its  white  houses  with 
the  groves  that  cover  their  sides.  Behind  all  stands 
up  the  mountain  wall,  in  most  places  clothed  with 
luxuriant  forests,  but  in  others  rising  in  precipices 
of  grey  granite  or  single  shafts  of  rock.  Thus  Rio 
stands  hemmed  in  between  mountains  and  bays.  There 
is  hardly  a spot  where,  looking  up  or  down  a street, 
one  does  not  see  the  vista  closed  either  by  the  waving 
green  of  forest  or  the  sparkling  blue  of  sea. 

Other  cities  there  are  where  mountains  rising 
around  form  a noble  background  and  refresh  the  heart 
of  such  town  dwellers  as  have  learnt  to  love  them.  “I 


380 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


will  lift  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills  whence  cometh  my 
aid.”  Such  cities  are  Athens  and  Smyrna,  Genoa  and 
Palermo,  San  Francisco  and  Santiago  de  Chile.  But  in 
Rio  the  mountains  seem  to  be  almost  a part  of  the  city, 
for  it  clings  and  laps  round  their  spurs  just  as  the  sea 
below  laps  round  the  capes  that  project  into  the  bay. 
Nor  does  one  see  elsewhere  such  weird  forms  rising 
directly  from  the  yards  and  gardens  of  the  houses. 
One  can  hardly  take  one’s  eyes  off  the  two  strangest 
among  these,  which  are  also  the  most  prominent  in 
every  prospect.  The  Pan  de  Azucar  (Sugar  Loaf)  is 
a cone  of  bare  granite,  so  steep  as  to  be  scaleable 
at  one  point  only  by  the  boldest  climbers,  which  stands 
on  the  ridge  between  the  bay  and  the  ocean.  The 
other  peak  is  the  still  loftier  Corcovado,  a vertical 
shaft  of  rock  something  like  the  Aiguille  de  Dru,1 
which  springs  right  out  of  the  houses  to  a height  of 
over  two  thousand  three  hundred  feet.  Such  strange 
mountain  forms  give  to  the  landscape  of  the  city  a sort 
of  bizarre  air.  They  are  things  to  dream  of,  not  to 
tell.  They  remind  one  of  those  bits  of  fantastic  rock 
scenery  which  Leonardo  da  Vinci  loved  to  put  in  as 
backgrounds,  though  the  rocks  of  Rio  are  far  higher,  and 
are  also  harder.  A painter  might  think  the  landscapes 
altogether  too  startling  for  treatment,  and  few  painters 
could  handle  so  vast  a canvas  as  would  be  needed  to 
give  the  impression  which  a general  view  makes.  Yet 
the  grotesqueness  of  the  shapes  is  lost  in  the  splendour 
of  the  whole, — a flood  of  sunshine,  a strand  of  dazzling 
1 Opposite  the  Montanvert  at  Chamouni. 


BRAZIL 


381 


white,  a sea  of  turquoise  blue,  a feathery  forest  ready 
to  fall  from  its  cliff  upon  the  city  in  a cascade  of  liv- 
ing green. 

It  is  hard  for  man  to  make  any  city  worthy  of 
such  surroundings  as  Nature  has  given  to  Rio. 
Except  for  two  or  three  old-fashioned  streets  in  the 
business  quarter  near  the  port  and  arsenal,  it  is  all 
modern,  and  such  picturesqueness  as  there  is  belongs 
to  the  varying  lines  of  shore  and  hill,  and  to  the  in- 
terspersed gardens.  A handsome  modern  thorough- 
fare, the  Avenida  Central,  has  been  run  through  what 
used  to  be  a crowded  mass  of  mean  houses,  and  it  has 
the  gay  effectiveness  of  a Parisian  boulevard.  Villas 
surrounded  by  trees  crown  the  hills  that  rise  here 
and  there ; and  one  street  is  lined  by  two  magnificent 
rows  of  Royal  palms,  their  stems  straight  and  smooth 
as  marble  pillars,  crested  by  plumes  of  foliage.  At  the 
east  end  of  the  city  the  semicircular  bay  of  Botafogo 
is  surrounded  by  a superb  palm-planted  esplanade, 
whose  parapet  commands  the  finest  general  view  over 
the  entrance  to  the  bay  and  the  heights  behind  Nictheroy, 
and  as  far  as  the  Organ  Mountains  which  rise  in  a row 
of  lofty  pinnacles  thirty  miles  away. 

In  such  a city,  the  curious  traveller  does  not  need 
to  hunt  for  sixteenth-century  churches  or  quaint  old 
colonial  houses.  Enough  for  him  that  the  settings  of 
the  buildings  are  so  striking.  The  strong  light  and 
the  deep  shadows,  and  the  varied  colours  of  the  walls 
and  roofs  of  the  houses,  the  scarlet  flowers  climbing 
over  the  walls,  and  the  great  glossy  dark  green  leaves  of 


382 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  trees  that  fill  the  gardens,  with  incomparable  back- 
grounds of  rock  and  sea,  — all  these  are  enough  to  make 
the  streets  delightful. 

Not  less  delightful  are  the  environs.  The  Botanic 
Garden  about  a mile  away  has  long  been  famous  for 
its  wonderful  avenue  of  royal  palms,  each  one  hundred 
feet  high,  all  grown  from  the  seed  of  one  planted  a 
hundred  years  ago,  in  the  days  when  the  king  of  Portu- 
gal held  his  court  here.  But  it  has  other  things  to  shew, 
equally  beautiful  and  more  interesting  to  the  botanist. 
Not  even  the  garden  of  Calcutta  contains  a more  re- 
markable collection  of  tropical  trees,  and  its  vistas  of 
foliage  and  bowery  hollows  overarched  by  tall  bam- 
boos are  enchanting.  As  respects  situation,  there  is, 
of  course,  no  comparison ; for  at  Calcutta,  as  at  our  own 
Kew,  all  is  flat,  while  here  the  precipices  of  the  Cor- 
covado  on  the  one  side,  and  the  still  grander  crags  of 
the  Tijuca  and  Gavea  on  the  other,  shoot  up  thousands 
of  feet  into  the  blue. 

A longer  excursion  to  the  south  of  the  city  carries  one 
in  the  course  of  a five  hours’  drive  through  a succession 
of  mountain  landscapes  unsurpassed  even  in  Brazil. 
A road  winds  up  the  hillside  through  leafy  glens,  where 
climbing  plants  and  tree-ferns  fill  the  space  between  the 
trunks  of  the  great  trees.  Now  and  then  it  comes 
out  on  the  top  of  a ridge,  and  one  looks  down  into 
the  abysmal  depths  of  forest,  bathed  in  vaporous  sun- 
light. Through  a labyrinth  of  valleys  one  reaches  a 
clearing  in  the  forest,  above  which  is  seen  the  beautiful 
peak  of  Tijuca,  and  beyond  it,  still  higher,  the  amazing 


BRAZIL 


383 


Gavea,  a square-sided,  flat-topped  tower  of  granite. 
In  their  boldness  of  line  these  peaks  remind  one  of  those 
that  stand  up  round  the  Mer  de  Glace  at  Chamouni. 
There  moraines  and  masses  of  fallen  stones  are  heaped 
upon  the  bases  of  these  Aiguilles,  and  nothing  breaks 
the  savage  bareness  of  their  sides  except  snow  beds  in 
the  couloirs.  Here  the  peaks  rise  out  of  a billowy  sea 
of  verdure.  The  steepness  of  their  faces  seems  to  defy 
the  climber ; yet  on  their  faces  there  are  crevices  just 
big  enough  for  shrubs  to  root  in,  by  the  help  of  which 
a daring  man  might  pull  himself  aloft.  Nature, 
having  first  hewn  out  these  peaks  into  appalling 
precipices,  then  set  herself  to  deck  them  with  climb- 
ing plants  and  to  find  foothold  for  trees  on  narrow 
ledges  and  to  cover  the  surface  with  the  bright  hues 
of  mosses  and  lichens,  and  fill  chinks  and  crannies 
with  ferns  and  pendulous  flowers  that  wave  and  sway 
in  the  passing  breeze.  Some  way  further,  from  the 
top  of  a gap  between  the  peaks,  the  open  ocean  is 
suddenly  seen  a thousand  feet  below,  its  intense  blue 
framed  between  green  hills,  with  long  billows  rushing 
up  over  the  white  sands  of  the  bay,  and  lines  of  spray 
sparkling  round  the  rocky  isles  that  rise  beyond,  like 
the  summits  of  submerged  mountains. 

Though  the  bay  of  Rio  was  discovered  as  far  back  as 
1531  by  the  Portuguese  sailor  who  took  its  mouth  for  a 
river,  and  was  settled  not  long  after,  first  by  Frenchmen 
in  1558  and  then  by  Portuguese  in  1567,  the  settlement 
grew  slowly,  and  it  was  not  till  1762  that  the  seat  of 
government  was  transferred  here  from  Bahia,  seven 


384 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


hundred  miles  further  to  the  north.  Now  the  popula- 
tion, estimated  at  a million,  is  in  South  America  ex- 
ceeded by  that  of  Buenos  Aires  only,  and  in  recent 
years  much  has  been  done  to  improve  both  the  city 
and  its  port  and  wharves.  Still  greater  service  has 
been  rendered  by  sanitary  measures  which  have  not 
only  cleared  away  slums,  but  have  practically  ex- 
tinguished yellow  fever,  and  reduced  the  mortality 
from  other  tropical  diseases.  Rio  is  now  a pleasant 
place  of  residence  in  winter,  and  the  sea-breeze 
makes  the  climate  agreeable  in  all  but  the  hottest 
months,  during  which  Europeans  find  it  debilitating. 
Fifty  years  ago  the  then  Emperor  Dom  Pedro  the 
Second  built  himself  a summer  residence  among  the 
mountains  which  rise  beyond  the  further  end  of  the 
bay,  and  this  presently  became  the  “hot  weather  sta- 
tion,” as  people  say  in  India,  for  the  richer  class  of 
citizens  and  for  the  representatives  of  foreign  countries. 
Now  that  Rio  itself  is  more  healthy,  the  need  for  an 
annual  migration  is  less  imperative,  but  the  natural 
charm  as  well  as  the  much  cooler  air  of  Petropolis  — 
so  the  place  is  called  — have  maintained  it  as  a summer 
resort.  It  is  an  excellent  centre  both  for  the  naturalist 
and  for  the  lover  of  scenic  beauty. 

The  railway  from  Rio,  after  traversing  the  low 
and  marshy  ground  along  the  margin  of  the  bay 
for  more  than  twenty  miles,  reaches  the  foot  of  the 
Organ  Mountains,  which  form  a part  of  the  Coast 
Range  already  referred  to.1  These  Organ  Mountains 
1 See  page  3GS. 


BRAZIL 


385 


(Serra  dos  Organs)  rising  in  a row  of  granite  towers  to 
a height  of  7300  feet,  the  ravines  between  their  peaks 
filled  with  luxuriant  forest,  make  a noble  ending 
to  the  view  from  Rio  along  the  length  of  the  bay. 
A botanist  could  spend  no  more  delightful  week  than 
in  rambling  among  them  at  a season  when  the  rains 
are  not  too  heavy.  The  railway  climbs  the  Serra  at 
its  lowest  point,  about  2600  feet  above  sea-level,  de- 
scending a little  on  the  other  or  northeastern  side  to 
Petropolis.  The  grade  is  so  steep  as  to  require  trains 
to  be  hauled  up  by  a wire  rope.  Nothing  can  surpass 
the  beauty  of  the  views  which  the  ascent  gives  over  the 
bay  with  its  islands  and  all  the  way  southeastward 
to  the  mountains  that  surround  Rio. 

Petropolis  is  a pretty  little  spot,  nestling  under  steep 
hills,  its  streets  well  planted  and  shady,  its  rows  of  shops 
which  address  themselves  to  the  summer  visitor  re- 
minding one  of  a Pyrenean  or  Rhenish  bathing  place. 
But  the  charm  of  its  surroundings  is  beyond  that  of 
any  place  in  Europe,  for  in  no  temperate  clime  are 
such  landscapes  with  such  woods  and  such  colours 
to  be  found.  Here,  better  even  than  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Rio,  one  can  explore  the  glens  and  penetrate 
the  forests  on  foot,  wherever  a path  can  be  found  to  fol- 
low, for  to  force  one’s  way  along  without  a path,  by  cut- 
ting openings  through  the  tangle  of  shrubs  and  climbers 
with  a machete,  is  a task  beyond  the  powers  of  the  solitary 
walker.  It  is  not  so  easy  as  in  Europe  to  get  to  know  the 
mountains,  for  the  pedestrian  cannot  go  where  he  will. 
The  thickness  of  the  wood  stops  him.  He  cannot  fix  upon 


386 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


some  attractive  summit  and  say  he  will  climb  there  for  a 
view,  because  access  on  foot,  and,  still  more,  access  on 
horseback,  is  possible  only  where  there  exists  a regular 
“ trail  ” or  well-marked  path.  Yet  it  is  a genial  country, 
fit  to  be  loved,  and  not  on  too  vast  a scale,  like  the 
Himalayas  or  the  Andes.  When  one  rambles  along  the 
valleys,  new  beauties  appear  as  the  mountains  group 
and  regroup  themselves  with  rock  peaks  springing  un- 
expectedly out  of  the  forest,  and  new  waterfalls  disclose 
themselves  along  the  course  of  the  brooks,  for  in  this 
land  of  showers  every  hollow  has  its  stream.  The 
heights  are  sufficient  to  give  dignity,1  and  the  forms 
are  endlessly  varied,  with  here  and  there  open  pastures 
or  slopes  of  rocky  ground  rising  to  a rocky  peak,  while 
the  heat  is  tempered  by  the  elevation  and  by  the  seldom 
failing  breeze. 

We  learnt  still  more  of  the  character  of  the  country 
in  an  excursion  over  the  Leopoldina  railway,  down 
into  the  valley  of  the  Parahyba  River,  and  back 
up  one  of  its  tributary  glens,  to  the  top  of  the  Coast 
Range  whence  we  descended  to  the  coast  at  Nictheroy 
opposite  Rio.  In  general  one  does  not  get  the  best  im- 
pression of  any  scenery,  and  perhaps  least  of  forest 
scenery,  from  a railroad.  Here,  however,  a railroad 
must  be  turned  to  account,  because  roads  are  few  and 
driving  difficult.  Our  train  moved  slowly  and  the  rains 
had  laid  the  dust. 

This  Leopoldina  railway  (the  property  of  a British 
company,  to  the  kindness  of  whose  managers  we  were 
1 The  tops  range  from  4500  to  7000  feet. 


BRAZIL 


387 


greatly  beholden)  descends  a narrow  valley,  hemmed 
in  by  steep  mountains  whose  projecting  spurs  and 
buttresses  turn  hither  and  thither  the  course  of  the 
foaming  river.  Right  and  left  waterfalls  leap  over  the 
cliffs  to  swell  its  waters.  The  slopes  are  mostly  too  steep 
for  tillage,  but  here  and  there  a cluster  of  houses  clings  to 
the  slopes,  and  round  them  there  are  fruit  trees  and  maize 
fields  or  little  gardens.  At  last  the  ravine  widens  and 
we  emerge  into  the  broad  valley,  bordered  by  lower  hills, 
of  the  Parahyba,  one  of  the  chief  rivers  of  the  Atlantic 
side  of  Brazil.  Running  down  it,  through  a rich  coun- 
try, we  stopped  at  a wayside  station  to  take  horse 
and  ride  up  to  a Fazenda  (estate)  whose  hospitable 
owner  had  invited  us  to  see  his  coffee  plantations  and 
five  stock.  The  house,  set  on  a hill  with  a pretty 
garden  below  it  and  charming  views  all  round,  and  in- 
habited by  a large  family  of  his  children  and  grand- 
children, gave  a pleasant  impression  of  Brazilian  rural 
fife.  Here  was  simplicity  with  abundance,  the  beauty  of 
groves  and  flowers,  a bountiful  Nature,  labourers,  nearly 
all  negroes,  who  seemed  contented  and  attached  to  their 
kindly  master.  A band  of  coloured  people  turned  out 
to  greet  us  and  played  the  national  air  of  Britain. 
The  plantation  and  stock  farms  are  managed  by 
the  owner  and  his  son,  who  take  pleasure  in  hav- 
ing everything  done  in  the  best  way.  We  saw 
the  process,  quite  an  elaborate  one,  and  carried  on  by 
machinery,  of  washing  and  drying  the  coffee-beans, 
sorting  them  out  by  size  and  quality,  separating  the 
husks  and  membranous  coverings  from  the  beans  before 


388 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


they  are  fit  to  be  packed  and  shipped.  Coffee  is  an  ex- 
hausting crop.  Fresh  land  must  be  taken  in  from 
time  to  time  and  the  old  land  allowed  to  rest;  and 
we  were  to  see  next  day  many  tracts  where  it  used  to  be 

cultivated,  which  have  now  been  abandoned  to  forest  be- 

/ 

cause  the  soil  had  ceased  to  repay  tillage.  A large  piece 
of  ground  was  ready  to  be  planted  with  young  coffee- 
plants,  and  we  were  asked  to  inaugurate  it  by  planting 
the  first  trees,  which  was  done  to  the  accompaniment 
of  rockets  let  off  by  the  negroes  in  the  full  afternoon 
sunlight.  The  love  of  fireworks,  carried  by  the  peoples 
of  southern  Europe  to  the  New  World,  reaches  its 
acme  among  their  coloured  dependants. 

Leaving  with  regret  this  idyllic  home,  we  sped  all 
too  quickly  down  the  vale  of  the  Parahyba.  Everyone 
knows  that  there  is  nothing  more  beautiful  than  the 
views  one  gets  in  following  a river.  But  here  we  felt 
as  if  we  had  not  known  before  how  beautiful  a 
valley  can  be  till  this  Brazilian  one  was  seen  in  its 
warm  light,  with  the  heavy  shadows  of  tropic  clouds 
falling  upon  woods  and  pastures,  the  broad  stream 
now  sparkling  over  the  shallows,  now  reflecting  the 
clouds  from  its  placid  bosom.  The  nearer  ridges  that 
fell  softly  on  either  side  were  crowned  with  villages 
clustering  round  white  church  spires ; other  ridges  rose 
one  behind  another  to  the  west,  their  outlines  fading 
in  the  haze  of  distance.  Not  often  in  the  tropics  does 
one  get  the  openness  and  the  mingling  of  cornfields  and 
meadows  with  forest  which  make  the  charm  of  south 
European  scenery.  Here  the  landscape  had  that 


BRAZIL 


389 


Italian  quality  one  finds  in  Claude  and  in  the  back- 
grounds of  Titian  but  bathed  in  the  intenser  light  of  a 
Brazilian  sun.  In  Brazil,  as  in  Mexico,  scenery  that  is 
both  splendid  and  romantic  stands  awaiting  the  painter 
who  is  worthy  to  place  it  on  canvas. 

At  last,  turning  away  from  the  Parahyba,  which  the 
main  line  of  railway  follows  to  the  sea,  we  mounted 
by  a branch  up  a lateral  valley,  passed  through  great 
stretches  of  rough  pasture  land  into  the  higher  region 
of  thick  woods,  and  halted  for  the  night  in  the  midst 
of  a thunderstorm  which  pealed  and  growled  and 
flashed  all  night  long,  as  often  happens  in  these  latitudes 
where  one  bank  of  clouds  comes  up  after  another  to  re- 
new the  discharges.  Next  morning  the  line,  after  keep- 
ing along  the  heights  for  some  miles,  descended  through 
a forest  more  wonderful  in  its  exuberance  than  any  we 
had  yet  seen.  From  the  summit  we  looked  over  a 
wilderness  of  deep  valleys,  the  waving  green  of  their 
tree-tops  seamed  with  the  white  flash  of  waterfalls,  with 
many  ranges  and  peaks  rising  in  the  far  distance,  few  of 
whose  tops  any  European  foot  had  pressed,  for  it  is  only 
the  bottoms  of  the  valleys  that  are  inhabited.  The 
views  were  all  the  more  beautiful  because  the  precipices 
on  the  hillsides  beneath  which  we  passed  were  dripping 
with  rivulets  from  last  night’s  rain,  and  cascades  leapt 
over  a succession  of  rock  ledges  and  hurried  in  foaming 
channels  down  the  bottoms  of  the  glens. 

In  the  hollow  of  the  valley  lies  a quiet  little  town  called 
Novo  Friburgo,  because  first  inhabited  by  a Swiss  colony 
brought  here  many  years  ago  to  grow  coffee.  These 


390 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Brazilian  villages  are  loosely  built,  the  houses  scattered 
along  wide  streets,  among  spreading  trees,  and  this  one 
had  retained  something  of  the  trimness  of  the  industri- 
ous people  who  first  settled  it.  Many  of  the  coffee 
plantations  of  forty  or  even  thirty  years  ago  haye  been 
abandoned,  and  their  sites  are  now  practically  undistin- 
guishable  from  the  rest  of  the  forest.  How  long  it  will 
take  for  the  land  to  recover  its  pristine  vigour  is  not 
yet  known,  and  there  is  still  so  much  virgin  land  waiting 
to  be  planted  that  the  question  is  of  more  importance 
to  the  individual  owner  than  to  the  nation  at  large. 

From  this  smiling  vale  the  line  climbs  another 
high  ridge  and  then  descends  once  more  through  a 
long  valley  to  the  level  land  that  lies  behind  the  bay  of 
Rio,  coming  out  at  last  in  the  town  of  Nictheroy  oppo- 
site the  city. 

This  long  run  through  the  mountains  on  the  top  of 
the  ridges  and  down  along  the  terraces  cut  out  in  their 
sides,  whence  one  can  look  over  great  spaces  of  woodland, 
completed  the  impressions  of  the  forest  which  our  excur- 
sions round  Rio  and  Petropolis  had  given.  Regarded  as 
a piece  of  Nature’s  work,  these  Brazilian  forests  are  more 
striking  than  those  of  the  eastern  Himalayas  or  of  the 
Nilghiri  Hills  in  India,  more  striking  even  than  that 
beautiful  little  forest  at  Hilo  in  Hawaii,  which  no  one 
who  has  visited  that  extraordinary  island  can  ever 
forget.  It  is  not  that  these  Brazilian  trees  are  very 
lofty.  I was  told  that  further  north  there  are  places 
where  the  great  trunks  reach  two  hundred  feet,  but  here 
none  seemed  to  exceed,  and  not  very  many  to  reach, 


BRAZIL 


391 


one  hundred.  Thus,  as  respects  either  height  or  girth 
or  general  stateliness  of  aspect,  these  trees  of  the 
Serra  do  Mar  are  not  to  be  compared  either  to  the  so- 
called  “Big  Trees”  of  California1  or  to  the  red  woods 
of  the  Pacific  Coast  Range,2  nor  do  they  equal  the 
forests  of  the  Cascade  Range  above  Puget  Sound, 
where  many  of  the  Douglas  firs  and  the  so-called 
“cedars”  approach,  and  some  are  said  to  exceed, 
three  hundred  feet.  But  they  have  a marvellous 
variety  and  richness  of  colour  both  in  flowers  and 
leaves.  Very  few  — in  this  part  I could  see  none  — are 
coniferous,  but  very  many  are  evergreen,  changing  their 
leaves  not  all  at  the  same  time,  like  the  deciduous  trees 
of  temperate  countries,  but  each  tree  at  its  own  time,  so 
that  there  are  always  some  with  fresh  leaves  coming  as 
the  others  are  beginning  to  go.  The  variety  of  tints 
is  endless,  from  the  dark  glossy  green  of  many  a forest 
tree  to  the  light  green  of  the  bamboos.  Some  leaves 
have  white  undersurfaces,  which  when  turned  up  by  the 
wind  are  bright  enough  to  give  the  effect  of  flowers  ; and 
one  tree,  frequent  in  these  mountains,  has  a group  of 
what  seem  white  bracts  round  the  corymb  at  the  end  of 
its  flower-shoots.  Still  more  varied  and  still  more  bril- 
liant are  the  flowers.  These  are  seen  best  from  above 
because  it  is  the  highest  boughs  touched  by  the  sun  that 
burst  forth  into  the  most  abundant  blossoms.  Though 
we  were  too  early  in  the  hot  season  to  see  the  blossom- 
bearing trees  at  their  best,  the  wealth  of  colour  was  de- 


1 Sequoia  gigantea  of  the  Mariposa  and  Calaveras  groves. 

2 Sequoia  sempervirens. 


392 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


lightful  even  in  November.  Yellow  and  white  were 
perhaps  the  most  frequent,  but  there  were  also  bright 
pinks  and  purples  and  violets.  Palms  rising  here  and 
there  often  high  above  the  rest  gave  a variety  of  tint 
and  form,  while  the  space  between  the  trunks  was  filled 
by  tree-ferns  rising  to  twenty  feet  and  by  a bewil- 
dering profusion  of  climbing  and  hanging  and  parasitic 
plants,  many  of  them  girdling  the  boughs  with  flowers. 
There  were  far  more  than  anybody  could  give  me 
names  for,  and  as  I had  no  means  of  ascertaining  the 
scientific  names,  it  would  not  serve  the  reader  to  give 
the  popular  Portuguese  ones,  especially  as  I found  that 
the  same  name  was  sometimes  applied  to  quite  different 
plants  because  their  colour  was  similar. 

It  is  in  a region  hke  this  that  one  begins  to 
realize  the  amazing  energy  of  nature.  In  the  Andes 
we  had  seen  the  power  of  what  are  called  the  inanimate 
forces  acting  from  beneath  to  shake  the  earth  and 
break  through  its  solid  crust.  There  heat,  acting 
upon  water,  has  produced  volcanic  explosions  and 
piled  up  gigantic  cones  like  Misti  and  Tupungato, 
and  has  destroyed  by  earthquakes  cities  like  Valpa- 
raiso or  Mendoza.  Here  heat  and  water  are  again 
the  force  and  the  matter  on  which  the  force  works ; 
but  here  it  is  through  life  that  they  act.  Every  inch  of 
ground  is  covered  with  some  living  and  growing  thing. 
While  the  tall  stems  push  upward  to  overtop  their 
fellows  and  let  their  highest  shoots  put  forth  flowers 
under  the  sunlight,  climbing  plants  slender  as  a vine- 
shoot  or  stout  as  a liana  embrace  the  trunk  and  mount 


BRAZIL 


393 


along  the  branches  and  hang  in  swinging  festoons  from 
tree  to  tree.  The  fallen  trunks  are  covered  thick  with 
ferns  and  mosses.  Orchids  and  many  another  parasite 
root  themselves  in  the  living  stem,  and  make  it  gay, 
to  its  ultimate  undoing,  with  blossoms  not  its  own. 
Even  the  bare  faces  of  gneiss  rock,  too  steep  for  any  soil 
to  rest  upon,  support  a plant  with  a thick  whorl  of  succu- 
lent leaves  that  is  somehow  able  to  find  sustenance  from 
air  and  moisture  only,  its  roots  anchored  into  some  slight 
roughness  of  the  rock.  When  a patch  of  wood  has  been 
cut  down  to  the  very  ground,  five  years  suffice  to  cover 
the  soil  again  with  a growth  of  trees  and  shrubs  so 
rank  that  the  spot  can  scarcely  be  distinguished  from 
the  uncut  forest  all  round.  But  this  swift  activity 
of  life  is  hardly  more  wonderful  than  is  the  variety  of 
forms.  Each  of  the  great  forests  of  Europe  and  North 
America  consists  of  a few  species  of  trees.  In  the  New 
Forest  in  England,  most  beautiful  of  all,  in  one  place 
chiefly  beeches  are  found,  in  another  chiefly  oaks, 
mixed,  perhaps,  with  some  birches  and  white  thorns. 
The  woods  of  Maine  and  New  Hampshire  are  composed 
of  maples  and  birches,  white  pines  and  hemlocks  and 
spruces,  with  now  and  then  some  less  frequent  tree.  In 
the  majestic  forests  of  the  Pacific  coast  there  are  seldom 
more  than  three  or  four  of  the  larger  species  present 
in  any  quantity  and  this  is  generally  true  also  of  the 
Eucalyptus  forests  of  Australia.  But  on  this  Brazilian 
coast  the  diversity  is  endless.  Those  who  have 
traversed  the  Amazonian  forests  have  made  the  same 
remark.  There  as  here  you  may  find  within  a radius  of 


394 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


eighty  yards,  forty  kinds  of  trees  growing  side  by  side, 
species  belonging  to  different  families  with  myriad 
shapes  and  hues  of  leaf  and  flower.  Not  content  with 
the  abundance  of  its  production,  this  creative  energy  of 
nature  insists  on  expressing  itself  also  in  an  endless 
variety  of  forms.  Do  any  principles  which  naturalists 
have  yet  discovered  quite  explain  such  a marvellous 
diversity  where  the  conditions  are  the  same  ? 

After  the  doctrine  of  the  Struggle  for  Life  had  been  once 
propounded  by  two  great  naturalists  who  had  seen,  one 
of  them  South  America,  and  the  other,  the  tropical 
islands  of  the  Further  East,  men  soon  learnt  to  recognize 
and  observe  the  working  of  the  principle  in  every  part 
of  the  earth  until  in  the  arid  desert  or  the  freezing  north 
a land  was  reached  where  life  itself  was  extinct.  But 
it  is  in  Brazil  that  the  principle  is  seen  in  the  fulness 
of  its  potency.  Here,  where  life  is  so  profuse,  so  multi- 
form, so  incessantly  surging  around  like  the  waves  of  a 
restless  sea,  this  law  of  nature’s  action  seems  to  speak 
from  every  rustling  leaf,  and  the  forest  proclaims  it  with 
a thousand  voices. 

Rambling  round  Rio,  and  noting  the  physical  char- 
acteristics of  the  ground  it  occupies,  the  rocky  hills  and  the 
promontories  and  the  islands,  the  traveller  is  reminded 
of  the  historic  cities  of  Greece  and  Italy  and  naturally  asks 
himself : Supposing  Rio  to  have  been  one  of  those  cities, 
where  would  the  Acropolis  have  been,  and  where 
would  the  citizens  have  met  in  their  assembly  before 
they  rushed  to  attack  a tyrant,  and  to  what  sea-girt  for- 
tress would  a ruler  have  sent  his  captives  by  water 


BRAZIL 


395 


as  the  East  Roman  emperors  seized  their  enemies  and 
sent  them  into  exile  from  the  Bosphorus?  Then,  re- 
membering that  few  streets  or  hills  in  Rio  have  any  asso- 
ciations with  the  past,  he  wonders  whether  such  asso- 
ciations will  come  into  being  in  the  future,  and  whether 
insurrections  and  civic  conflicts  may  ever  render  some  of 
these  spots  famous.  In  old  cities  like  Florence  and  Paris 
and  Edinburgh  historic  memories  make  a great  part  of 
the  interest  of  the  place.  How  much  of  English  history 
connects  itself  with  the  Tower  of  London  and  with  West- 
minster Hall!  It  so  happened  that  during  our  stay  in 
Rio  there  befell  an  incident  which  shewed  that  the 
smooth  surface  of  things  may,  even  in  our  own  days,  be 
troubled  by  explosive  passions,  an  incident  which  re- 
vealed a new  kind  of  danger  to  which  in  times  of 
domestic  strife  modern  engines  of  warfare  may  subject 
a maritime  town. 

On  the  day  when  we  were  to  embark  for  Bahia  and 
Europe,  we  started  early  in  the  morning  from  Petrop- 
olis  to  come  down  by  train  to  Rio,  and  heard  at  the 
station  rumours  of  a revolution,  confused  rumours, 
for  no  one  could  say  from  whom  the  revolution,  if  there 
was  one,  proceeded  or  against  whom  it  was  directed. 
When  we  reached  Rio,  things  cleared  up  a little.  It  was 
not  a political  revolution  nor  a military  pronunciamento, 
but  a marine  mutiny.  The  crews,  almost  entirely 
negroes,  of  the  two  great  Dreadnought  battleships 
which  the  Brazilian  government  had  recently  ordered 
and  purchased  from  an  English  firm  of  shipbuilders, 
and  which  had  shortly  before  arrived  in  the  harbour, 


396 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


had  revolted  during  the  night.  The  captain  of  one 
of  the  vessels,  the  Minas  Geraes,  had  been  murdered 
by  his  crew  as  he  stepped  on  board  upon  his  return  from 
dining  on  a French  ship.  The  story  ran  that  he  had 
been  first  pierced  by  bayonets  and  then  hewed  in  pieces 
with  hatchets.  Of  the  other  officers  some  few  had  been 
killed,  the  rest  put  on  shore.  The  only  white  men  left  on 
board  were  some  English  engineers  forcibly  detained  in 
order  to  work  the  engines.  The  crews  of  a cruiser  and 
two  smaller  war  vessels  had  joined  in  the  revolt.  All  the 
ships  were  in  the  hands  of  the  crews,  who,  however,  were 
believed  to  be  obeying  non-commissioned  officers 
of  their  own  colour,  and  who  were  led  by  a negro 
named  Joao  Candido,1  a big  man  of  energy  and  resolu- 
tion, who  had  shewn  his  grasp  of  the  situation  by 
ordering  all  the  liquor  on  the  Minas  Geraes  to  be 
thrown  overboard.  The  grievances  alleged  by  the 
seamen  were  overwork,  insufficient  wages,  and  the 
frequency  of  corporal  punishments.  Rumours  were 
busy  connecting  the  names  of  prominent  politicians 
with  the  outbreak,  but  so  far  as  could  be  made  out  then 
or  subsequently  there  was  no  foundation  for  these  suspi- 
cions. The  mutiny  seems  to  have  been  the  sponta- 
neous act  of  the  crews,  who,  it  was  remarked,  had  just 
arrived  from  Lisbon,  lately  the  scene  of  a revolution, 
and  might  have  there  caught  the  infection  of  rebellion. 
In  demanding  the  redress  of  their  grievances,  which 
was,  of  course,  to  be  accompanied  by  an  amnesty  for 
themselves,  they  had  threatened  to  lay  the  city  in  ashes, 


'John  White. 


BRAZIL 


39? 


enforcing  the  threat  by  firing  some  shots  into  it  (not, 
however,  from  the  heavy  guns).  One  shot  killed  two 
children,  and  several  other  persons  were  wounded. 

The  aspect  of  the  city  was  rather  less  affected  than 
might  have  been  expected.  Some  troops  were  moving 
about,  here  cavalry,  there  infantry.  Few  carriages  or 
motor  cars  and  few  women  were  to  be  seen.  Business 
was  slack,  and  groups  of  men  stood  talking  at  street 
comers,  evidently  imparting  to  one  another  those  tales 
and  suspicions  and  guesses  at  unseen  causes  with  which 
the  air  was  thick.  All  water  traffic  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  bay  had  been  stopped  by  the  mutineers,  who 
had  also  compelled  the  submission  of  one  of  the  forts 
at  the  entrance.  Strolling  along  to  the  great  Botafogo 
Esplanade  under  the  palms,  I found  a battery  of  field 
artillery,  their  guns  pointed  at  the  two  battleships,  the 
Minas  and  the  Sdo  Paulo,  against  which  they  would, 
of  course,  have  been  as  useless  as  paper  pellets.  There 
the  majestic  yellow  grey  monsters  lay,  fresh  from  Messrs. 
Armstrong’s  yard  at  Newcastle,  flying  the  ensign  of 
Brazil,  but  also  flying  at  the  fore  the  red  flag  of  rebellion. 
So  the  day  wore  on,  terror  abating,  but  the  sense  of  help- 
lessness increasing.  We  were  lunching  at  the  Ministry 
of  Foreign  Affairs  — it  was  a small  party,  for  consider- 
ations of  safety  had  kept  away  the  ladies  who  had  been 
invited  — when  suddenly  the  heavy  boom  of  the  guns 
was  heard,  and  continued  at  intervals  all  through  the 
repast.  When  again  in  the  streets,  I found  that  the 
two  Dreadnoughts  were  shelling  some  torpedo-boats, 
manned  by  crews  still  loyal,  which  had  approached 


398 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


them.  The  practice  was  bad,  and  none  of  the  boats 
was  hit,  but  they  prudently  scurried  off  up  the  bay 
into  shallow  water  where  the  ironclads  could  not  follow. 

So  the  hours  passed  and  everybody  was  still  asking, 
“What  is  to  be  done  ? ” “The  mutineers,  ” so  men  said, 
“can’t  be  starved  out,  because  they  have  threatened 
to  destroy  the  city  if  food  is  refused  them,  and  the 
city  is  at  their  mercy.  By  this  threat  they  have  forced 
us  to  give  them  water.  We  cannot  blow  up  the  ships 
with  torpedoes,  first  because  they  have  stretched  torpedo 
nets  round  the  hulls,  and  secondly  because  it  would  be  a 
serious  thing  to  destroy  property  for  which  we  have  paid 
no  small  part  of  our  annual  revenue.  Doesn’t  it  look 
as  if  we  should  have  to  submit  to  the  mutineers  ? 
What  else  can  we  do  ? ” Later  on  the  firing  recom- 
menced and  I mounted  to  the  third  story  of  the  British 
Consulate  to  see  what  was  happening.  The  ships  were 
shelling  the  naval  barracks  on  the  Isla  das  Cobras  in  the 
harbour,  and  the  island  was  replying,  and  we  were  near 
enough  to  see  the  red  flash  from  the  iron  lips  just  before 
the  roar  was  heard.  Lying  out  in  the  bay  was  the 
British  liner  by  which  we  were  to  sail  for  Liverpool. 
The  lighters  that  were  carrying  coal  to  her  had  been 
commandeered  by  the  mutineers,  but  she  had  just 
enough  in  her  bunkers  to  get  to  Bahia.  The  immedi- 
ate difficulty  was  for  the  passengers  to  reach  her  across 
the  line  of  fire.  At  last,  however,  a boat  was  sent  out 
from  shore  bearing  a flag  of  truce,  and  the  Sao  Paulo 
consented  to  cease  firing  and  let  the  passengers  get  on 
board  the  British  vessel.  They  were  accordingly  em- 


BRAZIL 


399 


barked  in  a launch  which,  flying  the  Consulate  flag, 
crossed  unharmed  the  danger  zone.  It  was  the  only 
chance,  but  a sense  of  relief  was  visible  in  every  face 
when  we  stepped  on  board,  for  if  a negro  gunner  had 
been  smitten  by  the  desire  to  let  fly  once  more  at  the 
Isla  das  Cobras,  his  ill-aimed  shot  might  very  well  have 
sent  the  launch  to  the  bottom.  As  we  steamed  slowly 
out  to  the  ocean  the  magnificent  Sao  Paulo  ran  close 
alongside  us,  and  we  could  see  her  decks  crowded  with 
negroes  and  the  red  flag  still  flying.  “A  study  in  black 
and  red,”  someone  observed.  Outside  the  entrance 
were  lying  the  Minas  Geraes  and  the  Bahia,  partly  to 
be  out  of  harm’s  way  from  torpedoes,  partly  to  guard 
the  mouth  of  the  bay.  In  the  sober  light  of  a grey 
sunset,  the  clouds  hanging  heavy  on  the  Corcovado, 
but  the  lofty  watch-tower  of  the  Pan  d’Azucar  still 
visible  through  the  gathering  shades,  we  turned  north- 
ward, and  bade  farewell  to  Rio.  Two  hours  later, 
looking  back  through  a moonless  night,  we  could  still 
see  the  flash,  from  beneath  the  horizon,  of  the  search- 
lights which  the  Minas  Geraes  was  casting  on  the  sea 
all  round  her  to  guard  against  the  stealthy  approach 
of  a loyal  torpedo-boat. 

A few  days  later,  at  Pernambuco,  we  heard  that 
peace  had  been  restored.  The  Chambers  had  voted  an 
amnesty  with  eloquent  speeches  about  the  beauty  of  for- 
giveness, and  had  promised  to  redress  the  grievances  of 
the  mutineers.  Another  mutiny  broke  out  afterwards, 
which,  after  many  lives  had  been  lost,  was  severely 
suppressed,  but  these  later  events  happened  when  we 


400 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


were  far  away,  nearing  the  coast  of  Europe,  and  of  them 
I have  nothing  to  tell. 

The  coast  for  some  way  north  from  Rio  continues 
high,  but  the  steamers  keep  too  far  out  to  permit  its 
beauties  to  be  seen.  Before  one  approaches  Bahia, 
the  mountains  have  receded,  and  at  that  city,  though 
picturesque  heights  are  still  visible,  they  lie  further  back, 
and  scarcely  figure  in  the  landscape.  Still  further  north, 
towards  Pernambuco,  and  most  of  the  way  northwest- 
ward to  Para,  the  coast  is  much  lower.  The  bay  of  Bahia 
is  singularly  beautiful  in  its  vast  sweep,  as  well  as  in  the 
verdure  that  fringes  its  inlets,  and  the  glimpses  of  distant 
sunlit  hills.  Nor  is  the  city,  long  the  capital  of  Brazil, 
wanting  in  interest;  for,  though  none  of  the  buildings 
have  much  architectural  merit,  there  is  a quaint,  old- 
fashioned  look  about  the  streets  and  squares,  with 
many  a house  that  has  stood  unchanged  since  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  upper  city  runs  along  the 
edge  of  a steep  bluff,  sixty  or  eighty  feet  above  the  lower 
town,  which  is  a single  line  of  street,  even  more  dirty 
than  it  is  picturesque,  occupying  the  narrow  strip  be- 
tween the  harbour  and  the  cliff.  Here,  far  more  than 
in  Parisianized  Rio,  one  finds  the  familiar  features  of  a 
Portuguese  town  reproduced,  irregular  and  narrow 
streets,  houses,  often  high,  roofed  with  red  tiles,  and 
coloured  with  all  sorts  of  washes,  pink,  green,  blue, 
and  yellow.  Sometimes  the  whole  front  or  side 
of  a house  is  covered  with  blue  or  yellowish  brown  tiles, 
a characteristic  of  Portuguese  cities  — it  is  frequent 
in  Oporto  and  Braga  — which  has  come  down  from 


BRAZIL 


401 


Moorish  times.  But  a still  greater  contrast  between 
this  and  southern  Brazil  is  found  in  the  population.  In 
Sao  Paulo  there  are  few  negroes,  in  Rio  not  very  many, 
but  here  in  Bahia  all  the  town  seems  black.  One  might 
be  in  Africa  or  the  West  Indies.  It  is  the  same  in  Per- 
nambuco and  indeed  all  the  way  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Amazon. 

Finding  this  to  be  a region  filled  with  coloured  people 
as  Sao  Paulo  was  with  white  people,  and  knowing  that 
a thousand  miles  further  west  one  would  come  into  a 
region  entirely  Indian,  one  began  to  realize  what  a vast 
country  Brazil  is,  big  enough  to  be  carved  up  into  six- 
teen countries  each  as  large  as  France.  Were  there 
natural  boundaries,  i.e.  such  physical  features  as  moun- 
tain ranges  or  deserts,  to  divide  this  immense  region 
into  sections,  the  settled  parts  of  Brazil  might  before 
now  have  split  apart  into  different  political  communi- 
ties. As  it  is,  however,  there  are  no  such  natural  divid- 
ing lines,  and  if  the  Republic  should  ever  break  in 
pieces  it  will  be  differences  in  the  character  of  the  pop- 
ulation or  some  conflict  of  material  interests  that  will 
bring  this  about. 

How  has  it  happened  that  so  huge  a country  has 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  a people  so  much  too  small  for  it, 
since  one  can  hardly  reckon  the  true  Brazilian  white 
nation  at  more  than  seven  millions  ? 

What  did  happen  was  that  the  French,  English,  and 
Dutch,  having  their  hands  full  in  Europe,  did  not  pur- 
sue their  attempts  to  occupy  the  country  with  sufficient 
persistence  and  with  adequate  forces,  and  so  lost  their 

2d 


402 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


hold  on  the  parts  they  had  seized.  Thus  it  became 
possible  for  a handful  of  Portuguese  on  the  Atlantic 
coast  to  send  out  small  colonizing  parties  into  their  un- 
occupied Hinterland,  and  as  there  were  no  civilized  in- 
habitants to  resist  them,  to  go  on  acquiring  a title  to  it 
without  opposition  until  they  met  the  outposts  of  the 
Spanish  government  who  had  advanced  from  the  Pacific 
across  the  Andes  just  as  the  Portuguese  had  advanced 
from  the  Atlantic.  Neither  Portuguese  nor  Spaniards 
had  been  numerous  enough  to  colonize  this  interior 
region  of  the  continent,  so  it  remains  (save  for  a few 
trading  posts  on  the  rivers)  an  empty  wilderness. 

Nevertheless,  though  Brazil  is  physically  all  one  coun- 
try, it  contains  regions  differing  in  climate,  in  economic 
resources,  and  in  population.  I will  try  in  a few  sen- 
tences to  indicate  the  character  of  each. 

The  most  northerly  part  along  the  frontiers  of 
Guiana  and  also  along  a good  deal  of  the  coast  between 
the  mouth  of  the  Amazon  and  Cape  St.  Roque  is  the 
least  valuable,  for  large  tracts  are  stony  and  protracted 
droughts  are  not  uncommon.  The  extreme  north  has 
been  hardly  at  all  settled. 

The  east  central  part,  consisting  of  the  mountain 
ridges  and  table-lands  referred  to  on  page  368,  together 
with  slopes  which  descend  on  all  sides  from  these 
highlands,  is  a region  of  great  natural  resources  where 
all  tropical  crops  and  fruits  can  be  produced.  Most 
of  it  is  healthy,  much  of  it  not  too  hot  for  white  men 
to  work  and  thrive,  and  the  magnificent  forests,  no 
less  than  the  mines,  will  make  the  mountains  for  many 


BRAZIL 


403 


years  to  come  no  less  a source  of  wealth  than  are  the 
more  level  tracts.  Its  weak  point  is  the  want  of  white 
labour  and  the  inefficiency  of  black  labour. 

This  tropical  region  passes  imperceptibly  into  the 
temperate  country  which  occupies  the  states  of  Sao 
Paulo,  Parand,  Santa  Catharina,  and  Rio  Grande,  a 
section  of  the  country  no  less  fertile  than  the  last  and 
better  fitted  for  European  constitutions.  Here  all  sub- 
tropical products  can  be  raised;  here  also  are  forests; 
and  here,  where  the  land  has  not  yet  been  brought 
under  tillage,  there  is  abundant  and  excellent  pasture 
for  all  sorts  of  live  stock.  As  the  east  central  region  is 
the  land  of  cotton  and  sugar,  so  this  southern  region  is 
the  land  of  coffee  and  cattle,  — coffee  in  its  northerly 
parts,  cattle  and  the  cereals  in  its  southern. 

There  remain  the  vast  spaces  of  the  west  and  norths 
west,  still  so  imperfectly  explored  that  it  is  hard  to 
estimate  their  economic  value.  To  the  Amazonian 
forests,  the  Selvas,  I shall  return  in  another  chapter.1 
They  are  the  land  of  another  great  Brazilian  staple  — 
rubber.  Most  parts  of  the  region  where  Brazil  adjoins 
Bolivia,  a vast  level  or  slightly  undulating  country, 
partly  grassy,  partly  covered  with  wood  or  scrub,  is 
believed  to  be  available  either  for  cultivation  or  for 
ranching.  At  present  access  is  difficult,  and  markets 
are  far  away,  but  when  the  districts  of  Brazil,  Uruguay, 
and  Argentina  that  he  between  this  region  and  the  coast 
have  been  more  fully  settled,  its  turn  will  come. 

Taking  Brazil  as  a whole,  no  great  country  in  the 
1 Chapter  XVI. 


404 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


world  owned  by  a European  race  possesses  so 
large  a proportion  of  land  available  for  the  support 
of  human  life  and  productive  industry.  In  the  United 
States  there  are  deserts,  and  of  the  gigantic  Russian 

Empire  much  is  desert,  and  much  is  frozen  waste.  But 

/ 

on  the  Portuguese  of  Brazil  nature  has  bestowed  noth- 
ing for  which  man  cannot  find  a use.  Such  a possession 
as  this  was  far  more  than  enough  to  compensate  the 
little  kingdom  for  the  loss  of  the  empire  which  it  began 
in  the  sixteenth  century  to  build  up  in  India,  before  the 
evil  days  came  after  the  death  of  King  Sebastian. 

The  material  prosperity  of  a country,  however,  de- 
pends less  on  its  natural  resources  than  on  the  quality 
of  the  labour  applied  to  its  development  and  on  the 
intelligence  that  directs  the  labour.  In  these  respects 
Brazil  has  been  less  fortunate.  When  the  Portuguese 
first  settled  the  coast  lands,  they  forced  the  Indian  abo- 
rigines to  work  for  them,  and  in  many  places  destroyed 
by  their  severities  the  bulk  of  the  native  population. 
Negroes  began  to  be  imported  about  a.d.  1600,  but  not  in 
great  numbers  until  the  discovery  of  diamond  and  other 
mines  in  the  inland  country  created  a sudden  demand 
for  labour.  After  that,  there  came  a large  importation 
of  slaves,  for  agricultural  as  well  as  for  mining  purposes, 
from  all  the  Portuguese  dominions  of  Africa,  and  from  the 
Congo  regions ; and  this  went  on,  though  latterly  much 
reduced,  down  to  our  own  time.  Between  1825  and  1850 
it  is  said  that  1,250,000  slaves  were  landed,  and  cargoes 
came  in  even  later.  Thus  the  working  population  of 
the  tropical  region,  including  the  coast  towns,  became 


BRAZIL 


405 


largely,  and  in  the  north,  predominantly  negro.  Slavery 
was  abolished  by  successive  stages,  the  last  of  which  was 
reached  in  1888.  For  a time  the  plantation  culture 
was  disorganized,  but  most  of  the  freedmen  ultimately 
returned  to  work.  It  is  by  their  labour  that  sugar  and 
cotton  are  raised  to-day,  though  they  take  life  very 
easily,  and  often  content  themselves  with  just  so  much 
exertion  on  just  so  many  days  a week  as  is  needed  to 
provide  them  with  food  and  the  other  scanty  necessaries 
of  their  life.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  race  is  lighthearted 
and  thoughtless,  caring  little  for  the  future,  loving 
amusement  in  its  most  childish  forms.  It  is  kindly  and 
submissive,  but  dangerously  excitable,  and  quickly 
demoralized  by  drink.  The  planters  find  it  hard  to  count 
on  their  work  people,  who  stay  away  if  they  feel  more 
than  usually  lazy,  and  will,  if  displeased,  transfer 
themselves  to  another  planter,  who,  in  the  general 
scarcity  of  labour,  is  glad  to  have  them.  Many  children 
are  born  to  them,  but  many  die,  especially  in  infancy, 
so  that,  taking  the  country  as  a whole,  they  do  not  seem 
to  increase  faster  than  the  other  sections  of  the  popu- 
lation. 

Such  are  the  cotton  and  sugar  regions:  now  let  us 
turn  to  those  southerly  states  of  the  republic,  whose 
staples  are  coffee  and  cattle  and  cereals.  In  them,  and 
especially  in  Sao  Paulo  and  Rio  Grande,  the  conditions 
are  altogether  different.  The  number  of  negroes  was 
never  large  there,  and  it  does  not  grow.  Owing  to  the 
elevation  of  the  ground  and  to  the  less  powerful  sun,  the 
heat  is  not  excessive  in  either  state,  and  European  im- 


406 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


migrants  can  work  and  thrive  and  be  happy.  So 
Europeans  have  flocked  hither.  Between  1843  and 
1859  about  twenty  thousand  came  from  Germany  to 
Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  and  there  are  now,  it  is  said,  about 
two  hundred  thousand,  forming  a compact  community 
which  preserves  its  national  habits  and  manages  its 
own  affairs  with  little  interference  by  the  central  govern- 
ment. It  is,  in  fact,  disposed  to  resent  any  such  inter- 
ference and  to  “run  things”  in  its  own  solid  German 
way.  Even  larger  is  the  number  of  Italians  who  in 
more  recent  years  have  entered  these  southern  states. 
The  labour  on  the  great  coffee  estates  of  Sao  Paulo  is 
almost  entirely  Italian ; and  in  Rio  Grande  they  have 
become  well-to-do  peasant  proprietors,  living  in  less 
comfort  than  their  German  neighbours,  but  working 
just  as  steadily.  This  better  quality  of  population  has 
largely  gone  to  making  the  southern  states  the  most 
progressive  part  of  Brazil.  Should  the  Italians  and  the 
native  Brazilians  of  the  south,  who  have  far  less  negro 
blood  than  those  of  the  middle  states,  continue  to 
spread  themselves  out  as  settlers  over  the  still  thinly 
peopled  southwestern  districts,  they  will  probably 
give  prosperity  to  that  region  also.  Cattle  ranching 
is  in  the  south  carried  on  by  Gauchos  much  like  those 
of  Uruguay  or  Argentina.  They  are  said  to  have 
communicated  their  love  of  horses  to  the  Germans  and 
Italians,  so  that  on  holidays  even  the  women  of  those 
races  appear  on  horseback  in  a way  that  would  startle 
their  peasant  cousins  left  at  home  in  Swabia  or  Lom- 
bardy. 


BRAZIL 


407 


The  foreign  element  in  Brazil  is  more  important  by 
its  energy  and  industry  than  by  its  numbers,  for  it 
probably  little  exceeds  a million  all  told,  and  the  total 
population  of  the  republic  may  approach  nineteen  or 
twenty  millions.  In  1910  about  88,000  immigrants 
entered,  most  of  them  Italians,  and  the  rest  Portuguese, 
Spaniards,  and  Syrians,  these  last  mostly  travelling 
peddlers,  or  small  dealers  who  establish  themselves  in 
the  towns.  The  afflux  of  Syrians  that  has  found  its 
way  to  South  America  and  the  West  Indies  during  the 
last  few  years  is  a new  and  curious  feature  in  the  cur- 
rents of  ethnic  movement  that  mark  our  time. 

But  what  of  the  Brazilian  people  itself?  The  influ- 
ences that  tend  to  make  it  vary  from  its  original  type 
are  counterworked  by  the  steady  immigration  from 
Portugal,  and  from  Spain  also,  for  though  any  sort  of 
Spaniard  (except  a Gallego)  differs  materially  from  a 
Portuguese,  the  two  races  differ  much  less  from  one 
another  than  either  does  from  any  other  European  stock. 
The  Brazilian  is  primarily  a Portuguese  in  the  outlines 
of  his  mind  and  character.  He  has,  however,  been  mod- 
ified by  intermixture  with  two  other  races.  The  first  of 
these  is  the  native  Indian.  The  settlers  both  in  Sao 
Paulo  and  along  the  northeastern  coast,  while  they  killed 
most  of  the  Indian  men  either  in  fight  or  by  working 
them  to  death  as  slaves,  intermarried  freely  with  Indian 
women.  The  offspring  were  called  Mamelucos,  an 
Eastern  term,  which  it  is  odd  to  find  here,  and  which 
is  now  beginning  to  pass  out  of  use.  In  the  south  this 
mixed  race  as  well  as  the  pure  Indian  race  has  been 


408 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


now  absorbed  into  the  rest  of  the  population.1  You 
would  as  soon  expect  to  see  a Pawnee  in  Philadelphia 
as  an  Indian  in  Santos.  In  the  north  the  half-breed 
is  generally  called  a Caboclo,  a name  originally  given 
to  the  tame  native  Indian,  as  opposed  to  t)ie  wild 
Indio  bravo;  and  in  that  region,  a large  part  of  the 
agricultural  population  is  of  this  mixed  stock. 

The  second  modifying  influence  is  that  of  the  imported 
Africans.  When  the  first  slave  ships  disgorged  their 
cargoes  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  the  aborigines  of  those 
districts  had  already  been  either  killed  off  or  merged 
in  the  Portuguese  population,  so  that  the  mingling  of 
Indian  and  negro  blood  which  is  supposed  to  produce 
an  especially  undesirable  class  of  citizens  was  compara- 
tively small.  The  intermarriage  of  blacks  and  whites 
has,  however,  gone  on  apace,  and  the  negroes  consti- 
tute a large,  the  mulattoes  and  quadroons  a still  larger, 
percentage  of  the  population.  Some  observers  hold 
that  the  coloured  people,  taken  all  together,  equal  or 
outnumber  the  whites.  The  intermixture  continues, 
for  here,  as  in  Portuguese  East  Africa,  no  sentiment 
of  race  repulsion  opposes  it.2  Any  figures  that  might 
be  given  would  be  quite  conjectural ; for  the  line  be- 

1 How  many  Indians  there  are  nobody  knows,  but  the  common 
(probably  exaggerated)  estimate  puts  them  at  nearly  2,000,000,  half 
of  these  pagans  in  the  Amazonian  forests,  while  the  mixed  race  is 
calculated  at  1,700,000. 

2 Sir  H.  H.  Johnson  ( The  Negro  in  the  New  World)  conjectures 
the  pure  blacks  at  about  2,720,000  and  the  mulattoes  and  quadroons 
at  about  5,600,000.  The  rest  of  the  population,  that  which  may  be 
described  as  white  because  it  bears  no  conspicuous  marks  of  any  in- 


BRAZIL 


409 


tween  the  mixed  black  and  white  and  the  white  can- 
not be  drawn  with  any  approach  to  accuracy.  Even 
in  the  United  States,  where  conditions  permit  more 
careful  discrimination,  no  one  can  tell  what  is  the  per- 
centage of  mulattoes  to  the  total  coloured  population, 
nor  how  many  quadroons  and  octoroons  there  are  to 
be  found  among  those  classed  as  whites,  for  many  people 
who  have  some  negro  blood  succeed  in  concealing  its 
presence,  while  others  are  classed  as  coloured  who  in 
Europe  would  pass  as  white.  Much  more  difficult  is  it 
to  tell  in  Brazil  who  is  to  be  deemed  a person  of  colour. 

How  far  the  differences  between  the  Brazilian  and 
the  Portuguese  of  to-day  are  due  to  racial  admixture, 
and  how  far  to  the  conditions  of  colonial  life  and  a new 
physical  environment,  is  a matter  on  which  one  might 
speculate  for  ever  and  come  no  nearer  to  a conclusion. 
The  descendants  of  Englishmen  who  were  living  in 
Massachusetts  and  Virginia  in  1840  before  immigration 
from  Continental  Europe  had  begun  to  affect  the 
English  stock  shewed  already  marked  differences  from 
the  Englishmen  of  old  England,  and  it  is  impossible  to 
tell  how  far  the  changes  that  have  passed  on  the  people 
of  the  United  States  since  then  are  due  to  the  influx  of 
new  immigrants  from  Europe,  how  far  to  other  causes. 
The  Brazilian  is  still  more  of  a Portuguese  than  he  is  of 
any  other  type.  His  ideas  and  tastes,  his  ways  of  life, 


fusion  of  color,  may  approach  8,000,000.  The  Indians  and  half-breeds 
(Indian  and  white)  would  make  up  the  rest  of  the  non-European 
population.  Of  the  pure  blacks,  from  20,000  to  30,000,  living  on  the 
northeast  coast,  are  either  Mussulmans  or  heathen  fetichists. 


410 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


his  alternations  of  listlessness  and  activity,  his  kindly 
good  nature,  his  susceptibility  to  emotions  and  to  a 
rhetoric  that  can  rouse  emotion,  belong  to  the  country 
whence  he  came. 

Brazil  was  the  latest  country  in  the  American  con- 
tinent to  become  a republic.  This  befell  in  1888. 
In  1807,  when  the  armies  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte 
entered  Portugal,  the  then  reigning  king,  John,  of  the 
house  of  Braganza,  crossed  the  Atlantic  and  reigned  at 
Rio  till  the  expulsion  of  the  French  enabled  him  to 
resume  his  European  throne.  In  1822  the  people  had 
become  discontented  under  Portuguese  misgovernment. 
Republican  ideas,  stimulated  by  the  destruction  of  Span- 
ish power  that  was  proceeding  on  the  Pacific  coasts, 
were  in  the  air,  and  the  Regent,  Dom  Pedro,  son  of  King 
John,  proclaimed  the  independence  of  Brazil  which  was, 
after  some  fighting,  conceded  by  the  mother  country 
in  1825.  His  action  probably  saved  monarchical 
institutions,  and  when  he  abdicated  in  1831,  disgusted 
with  the  difficulties  that  surrounded  him,  and  with 
the  unpopularity  to  which  his  own  faults  had  ex- 
posed him,  he  was  succeeded  by  his  son,  who  ruled 
as  the  Emperor  Pedro  the  Second.  This  amiable 
and  enlightened  prince,  a lover  of  natural  science  as 
well  as  of  art  and  letters,  devoted  himself  chiefly  to 
European  travel  and  to  the  economic  and  educa- 
tional improvement  of  his  country,  interfering  very 
little  with  politics.  A military  conspiracy  and  the 
resentment  of  the  planters  at  the  sudden  abolition  of 
slavery  brought  about  the  revolution  of  1888,  in  which 


BRAZIL 


411 


a republic  was  proclaimed  and  the  Emperor  shipped 
off  to  Europe.  In  1891  a congress  met  and  enacted 
a federal  constitution  modelled  on  that  of  the  United 
States.  The  immense  size  of  the  country  and  its  want 
of  homogeneity  suggested  a federal  system,  the  basis 
for  which  already  existed  in  the  legislative  assemblies 
of  the  provinces.  Since  then  Brazil  has  had  its 
full  share  of  armed  risings  and  civil  wars. 

At  first  the  states  were  allowed  the  full  exercise  of 
the  large  functions  which  the  Constitution  allotted  to 
them,  including  the  raising  of  revenue  by  duties  on 
exports  and  the  maintenance  of  a police  force  which 
in  some  states  was  undistinguishable  from  an  army. 
Presently  attempts  were  made  to  draw  the  reins 
tighter,  and  these  attempts  have  continued  till  now. 
The  national  government  has  at  its  disposal  the  im- 
portant field  of  financial  and  tariff  legislation,  the  con- 
trol of  army  and  navy,  and  the  opportunities  of  helping 
needy  or  slothful  states  by  grants  of  money  or  by  the 
execution  of  public  works.  Through  the  use  of  these 
powers  it  has  latterly  endeavoured  to  exert  over  the 
states  a greater  control  than  some  of  them  seem  will- 
ing to  accept.  Nor  is  this  the  only  difficulty.  While 
some  of  the  states,  and  especially  the  southern,  have  an 
intelligent  and  energetic  population,  others  remain  far 
behind,  their  citizens  too  ignorant  and  lazy,  or  too  un- 
stable and  emotional,  to  be  fit  for  self-government. 
Universal  suffrage  in  districts  where  the  majority  of  the 
voters  are  illiterate  persons  of  colour  suggests,  if  it  does 
not  justify,  extra-legal  methods  of  handling  elections. 


412 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


One  illegality  breeds  another,  and  there  is  perpetuated 
a distrust  of  authority  and  a resort  to  violence.  As  one 
of  the  most  recent  and  brilliant  of  European  travellers 1 
observes,  in  a passage  which  conveys  his  admiration  for 
the  attractive  qualities  he  finds  in  the  Brazilians,  “The 
Constitution  enjoys  a chiefly  theoretic  authority.  . . . 
There  is  a lack  of  balance  between  the  states  which  have 
already  a highly  perfected  civilization  and  the  districts 
which  in  theory  are  on  a footing  of  equality,  but  whose 
black  or  Indian  population  can  only  permit  of  a nomi- 
nal democracy  stained  by  those  irresponsible  outbursts 
which  characterize  primitive  humanity.  ” That  the  au- 
thority of  a constitution  should  be  “theoretic  rather  than 
practical  ” must  be  expected  where  “a  democracy  is  nom- 
inal”; for  if  institutions  the  working  of  which  requires 
intelligence  and  public  spirit  are  forced  on  Indians  and 
negroes,  their  failure  is  inevitable. 

In  the  Brazilian  politics  of  to-day  there  are  many 
factions,  but  no  organized  parties  nor  any  definite  prin- 
ciples or  policies  advocated  by  any  group  or  groups  of 
men.  Federal  issues  are  crossed  and  warped  by  state 
issues,  state  issues  confused  by  federal  issues,  and  both 
sets  of  issues  turn  rather  on  persons  than  on  general 
doctrines  or  specific  practical  proposals.  One  source 
of  dissension  is,  however,  absent,  — that  struggle  of  the 
church  and  clericalism  against  the  principles  of  reli- 
gious equality  which  has  distracted  the  Spanish-Ameri- 
can  republics.  In  Brazil  the  separation  of  church 
and  state  is  complete,  and  though  the  diplomatic 

1 M.  Georges  Clemenceau  in  his  South  America  of  To-day. 


BRAZIL 


413 


corps  enjoys  the  presence  of  a papal  Nuncio  as  one 
of  its  members,  this  adherence  to  tradition  has  no 
present  political  significance.  Here,  moreover,  as  in 
Argentina  and  Uruguay,  the  church  and  religion  seem  to 
have  little  influence  upon  the  thought  or  the  conduct  of 
laymen.  The  absence  or  the  fluidity  of  parties  makes  the 
executive  stronger  than  the  legislature  both  in  national 
and  state  politics.  There  are  many  men  of  talent,  espe- 
cially oratorical  talent,  and  many  men  of  force,  but  not 
enough  who  shew  constructive  power  and  the  grasp  of 
mind  needed  to  handle  the  enormous  economic  problems 
which  a country  so  vast,  so  rich,  and  so  various  presents. 

Among  the  economic  issues  of  to-day  may  be  reck- 
oned that  of  protection,  as  against  free  trade.  Bra- 
zilian policy  is  at  present  highly  protectionist,  and 
does  not  hesitate,  when  some  powerful  interest  asks 
for  further  help,  to  double  or  more  than  double 
whatever  protective  duty  it  finds  existing.  The  chief 
social  questions  are  those  relating  to  the  extension 
of  education  and  the  enactment  of  better  labour 
laws  for  the  benefit  of  children  and  the  security 
of  workpeople.  The  chief  constitutional  question  is  the 
relations  of  the  national  and  the  state  governments.  Eu- 
ropean critics  complain  that  upon  none  of  these  does  any 
legislative  group  seem  to  put  forward  any  definite  and 
consistent  policy.  Yet  such  critics  must  be  reminded 
that  the  country  has  been  a republic  only  since  1891,  and 
free  from  the  taint  of  slavery  only  since  1888,  and  that 
her  peace  has  been  since  those  years  frequently  dis- 
turbed. It  is  too  soon  to  be  despondent. 


414 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Brazilian  society  seems  to  a passing  observer  to 
be  in  a state  of  transition,  and  may  not  for  some  time 
to  come  succeed  in  reconciling  the  contrasts  between 
the  old  and  the  new,  and  between  theory  and  prac- 
tice, which  it  now  displays.  The  old  system  was 
aristocratic  not  only  because  a number  of  respected 
families  surrounding  the  imperial  court  enjoyed  a pre- 
eminence of  rank,  but  also  because  a newer  class  of  rich 
men,  chiefly  landowners,  had  grown  up.  The  aristoc- 
racy of  rank  is  now  almost  gone,  but  the  aristocracy  of 
wealth  remains  and  is  in  control  of  public  affairs.  In 
most  parts  of  the  country,  it  stands  far  above  the  labour- 
ing population,  with  little  of  a middle  class  between. 
Democratic  principles  have  been  proclaimed  in  the 
broadest  terms,  but  thinking  men  see,  and  even  un- 
thinking men  cannot  but  dimly  feel,  that  no  govern- 
ment, however  good  its  intentions,  can  apply  such  prin- 
ciples in  a country  where  seven-eighths  of  the  people  are 
ignorant,  and  half  of  them  belong  to  backward  races,  un- 
fit to  exercise  political  rights.  The  conditions  here  noted 
may  be  thought  to  resemble  those  of  the  southern  states 
in  the  North  American  Union.  But  there  are  two 
conspicuous  differences.  In  Brazil  no  social  “colour 
line”  is  sharply  drawn,  and  the  fusion  of  whites  and 
blacks  by  intermarriage  goes  steadily  on.  In  Brazil 
the  pure  white  element,  though  it  preponderates  in 
the  temperate  districts  of  the  south,  is  less  than  half 
of  the  whole  nation,  whereas  in  the  United  States  it  is 
eight-ninths.  Yet  in  the  southern  United  States  nearly 
all  the  coloured  population  has  been  disfranchised  and 


BRAZIL 


415 


all  declarations  of  democratic  principles  are  understood 
to  be  subject  to  the  now  fundamental  dogma  that  white 
supremacy  must  be  absolutely  assured. 

Though  the  financial  stability  of  Brazil  is  said  to  be 
hardly  equal  to  that  which  Argentina  was  enjoying  in 
1910,  and  though  the  growth  of  national  and  individual 
wealth  has  been  less  rapid,  there  is  a sense  of  abundance, 
and  the  upper  classes  live  in  an  easy  open-handed  way. 
Slaveholding  produces  extravagant  habits,  especially 
among  plantation  owners,  for  what  is  the  use  of  looking 
after  the  details  of  expenditure  when  one  has  thriftless 
labourers,  whose  carelessness  infects  all  who  are  set 
over  them?  Like  their  Portuguese  ancestors,  the 
Brazilians  are  genial  and  hospitable,  and  they  have 
the  example  and  the  excuse  of  a bounteous  Nature 
around  them.  They  seem  less  addicted  to  horse-racing 
and  betting  than  are  the  Argentines  and  Chileans,  but 
the  gambling  instinct  finds  plenty  of  opportunities  in 
the  fluctuations  of  exchange,  as  well  as  in  the  rapid 
changes  of  the  produce  markets. 

The  Brazilian  is  primarily  a man  of  the  country,  not 
of  the  city.  Rio,  large  as  it  is,  is  a less  potent  factor 
than  Buenos  Aires  is  in  Argentina,  or  Santiago  in  Chile. 
The  landowner  loves  his  rural  life,  as  did  the  Virginian 
planter  in  North  America  before  the  Civil  War,  and 
lives  on  the  fazenda  in  a sort  of  semi-feudal  patri- 
archal way,  often  with  grown-up  sons  and  daughters 
around  him.  Estates  (except  in  the  extreme  south) 
are  extensive;  near  neighbours  are  few;  families  are 
often  large;  the  plantation  is  a sort  of  little  princi- 


416 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


pality,  and  its  owner  with  his  fellow-proprietors  is 
allowed,  despite  all  democratic  theory,  to  direct  the 
politics  of  the  district  just  as  in  England,  eighty 
years  ago,  the  county  families  used  to  control  local 
affairs  and  guide  the  choice  of  representatives  in 
Parliament. 

I have  observed  that  the  Brazilian,  though  modified 
in  some  parts  of  the  country  by  Indian  or  negro  blood,  is 
primarily  a Portuguese.  Now  the  Portuguese,  a people 
attractive  to  those  who  live  among  them,  have  also  had  a 
striking  history.  They  are  a spirited  people,  an  adven- 
turous people,  a poetical  people.  For  more  than  a cen- 
tury, when  they  were  exploring  the  oceans  and  founding 
a dominion  in  India,  they  played  a great  part  in  the 
world,  and  though  they  have  never  quite  recovered 
the  position,  wonderful  for  so  small  a country,  which 
they  then  held,  and  have  produced  no  later  poet  equal 
to  Camoens,  men  of  practical  force  and  men  of  intel- 
lectual brilliance  have  not  been  wanting.  Neither 
are  they  wanting  in  Brazil.  A love  of  polite  letters 
is  common  among  the  upper  classes,  and  the  power 
of  writing  good  verse  is  not  rare.  The  language  has 
retained  those  qualities  which  it  shewed  in  the  Lusiads, 
and  the  possession  of  that  great  poem  has  helped 
to  maintain  the  taste  and  talent  of  the  nation.  There 
are  admirable  speakers,  subtle  and  ingenious  lawyers, 
astute  politicians,  administrators  whose  gifts  are  ap- 
proved by  such  feats  as  the  extinction  of  yellow  fever 
in  Rio  and  Santos.  The  late  Baron  do  Rio  Branco  was  a 
statesman  who  would  have  been  remarkable  in  any  coun- 


BRAZIL 


417 


try.  Yet  it  is  strange  to  find  that,  both  here  and  in  other 
parts  of  South  America,  men  of  undoubted  talent  are 
often  beguiled  by  phrases,  and  seem  to  prefer  words  to 
facts.  Between  the  national  vanities  and  self-glorifying 
habits  of  different  nations,  there  is  not  much  to  choose, 
but  in  countries  like  England  and  the  United  States, 
the  rhetoric  of  after-dinner  speeches  is  known  clearly 
and  consciously  by  the  more  capable  among  the  speak- 
ers, and  almost  as  distinctly  by  the  bulk  of  the  audience, 
to  be  mere  rhetoric.  They  are  aware  of  their  national 
faults  and  weaknesses  and  do  not  really  suppose  them- 
selves more  gifted  or  more  virtuous  than  other  peoples. 

In  Latin  America,  where  eloquence  comes  by  nature 
and  seems  to  become  a part  of  thought  itself,  the  case  is 
different.  Exuberant  imagination  takes  its  hopes  or 
predictions  for  realities,  and  finds  in  the  gilded  clouds 
of  fancy  a foundation  on  which  to  build  practical 
policies.  Proud  of  what  they  call  their  Democratic 
Idealism,  they  assume  as  already  existing  in  their 
fellow-countrymen  the  virtues  which  the  citizens  of  a 
free  country  ought  to  possess.  To  keep  these  unrealized 
ideals  floating  before  one’s  eyes  may  be  better  than  to 
have  no  ideals  at  all,  but  for  the  purposes  of  actual 
politics,  the  result  is  the  same  either  way,  for  that 
which  is  secured  for  the  principles  embodied  in  the  laws 
is  what  M.  Cl^menceau  happily  calls  “an  authority 
chiefly  theoretic.”  Let  us,  nevertheless,  remember  that 
although  the  habit  of  mistaking  words  for  facts  and 
aspirations  for  achievements  aggravates  the  difficulties 
of  working  constitutional  government  in  South  American 


418 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


countries,  these  difficulties  would  in  any  case  exist. 
They  inhere  in  the  conditions  of  the  countries.  It  is 
vain  to  expect  a constitution  closely  modelled  on  that 
of  the  United  States  to  work  smoothly  in  Brazil,  just 
as  it  is  impossible  to  expect  the  British  Cabipet  and 
Parliamentary  system  to  work  smoothly  in  those  small 
nations  which  have  recently  been  copying  it,  without 
an  incessant  and  often  ludicrous  contrast  between  doc- 
trine and  practice.  A nation  is  the  child  of  its  own 
past,  as  Cervantes  says  that  a man  is  the  child  of  his 
own  works. 

The  Brazilians,  who  never  forget  that  they  were 
for  a time,  during  the  French  invasion  of  Portugal, 
their  own  mother  country,  and  head  of  the  whole 
Portuguese  people,  cherish  their  national  literary  tra- 
ditions with  more  warmth  than  do  the  Spaniards  of 
the  New  World,  and  produce  quite  as  much,  in  the 
way  of  poetry  and  belles  lettres,  as  do  the  writers  of 
Portugal.  They  have  a quick  susceptibility  to  ideas, 
like  that  of  Frenchmen  or  Russians,  but  have  not  so  far 
made  any  great  contributions  to  science,  either  in  the 
fields  of  physical  enquiry  or  in  those  of  economics, 
philology,  or  history.  One  can  hardly  be  surprised 
that  learning  and  the  abstract  side  of  natural  science  are 
undervalued  in  a country  which  has  no  university,  noth- 
ing more  than  faculties  for  teaching  the  practical  subjects 
of  law,  medicine,  engineering,  and  agriculture.  This  de- 
ficiency of  a taste  for  and  interest  in  branches  of  knowl- 
edge not  directly  practical  is  the  more  noticeable,  be- 
cause the  Brazilians  do  not  strike  one  as  a new  people. 


BRAZIL 


419 


Less  here  than  in  Argentina  or  Uruguay,  has  one  the 
feeling  that  the  nation  is  still  in  the  first  freshness  of 
youth,  eagerly  setting  itself  to  explore  and  furnish  its 
home  and  to  develop  resources  the  possession  of  which 
it  has  just  begun  to  realize.  Business  and  sport  are 
not  such  absorbing  topics  of  conversation  here  as  they 
are  in  Argentina;  there  is  neither  such  a display  of 
wealth  nor  such  a passion  for  spending  it.  Yet  one 
doubts  whether  this  freedom  from  the  preoccupations  of 
industry  and  commerce,  the  latter  mainly  left  to  foreign- 
ers, enures  to  the  benefit  of  public  fife.  Most  of  those 
who  follow  politics  seem  absorbed  in  personal  intrigues. 
Comparatively  few  shew  themselves  sensible  of  the  tre- 
mendous problems  which  the  nation  has  to  face,  with 
its  scattered  centres  of  population  to  draw  together, 
its  means  of  communication  to  extend,  its  public  credit 
to  sustain,  its  revenues  to  be  scrupulously  husbanded 
and  applied  to  useful  purposes,  above  all,  its  mass  of 
negro  and  Indian  population  to  be  educated  and  civil- 
ized. Nowhere  in  the  world  is  there  a more  urgent 
need  for  a wise  constructive  statesmanship. 

It  is  hard  to  convey  the  impression  with  which  one 
sees  the  shores  of  Brazil  sink  below  the  horizon  after 
coasting  along  them  for  three  thousand  miles  from 
the  Uruguayan  border  to  Pernambuco,  and  coming  to 
know  something  of  the  boundless  wealth  which  Nature 
has  lavished  upon  man  in  this  vast  land.  Not  even  the 
great  North  American  republic  has  a territory  at  once 
so  large  and  so  productive.  What  will  be  its  future? 
Is  the  people  worthy  of  such  an  inheritance  ? 


420 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  first  thought  that  rises  in  the  mind  of  those  who 
are  possessed,  as  in  this  age  we  all  more  or  less  are,  by 
the  passion  for  the  development  of  natural  resources, 
is  a feeling  of  regret  that  a West  European  race,  power- 
ful by  its  numbers  and  its  skill,  say  the  North  American 
or  German  or  English,  has  not,  to  use  the  familiar 
phrase,  “got  the  thing  in  hand.”  The  white  part  of 
the  Brazilian  nation  — and  it  is  only  that  part  that 
need  be  considered  — seems  altogether  too  small  for 
the  tasks  which  the  possession  of  this  country  imposes. 
“ How  men  from  the  Mississippi  would  make  things 
hum  along  the  Amazon  and  the  Parana ! ” says  the 
traveller  from  the  United  States.  In  thirty  years,  Brazil 
would  have  fifty  millions  of  inhabitants.  Steamers  would 
ply  upon  the  rivers,  railways  would  thread  the  recesses  of 
the  forests,  and  this  already  vast  dominion  would  almost 
inevitably  be  enlarged  at  the  expense  of  weaker  neigh- 
bours till  it  reached  the  foot  of  the  Andes.  Second 
or  third  thoughts  suggest  a doubt  whether  such  a 
consummation  is  really  in  the  interests  of  the  world. 
May  not  territories  be  developed  too  quickly  ? Might 
it  not  have  been  better  for  the  United  States  if  their 
growth  had  been  slower,  if  their  public  lands  had  not 
been  so  hastily  disposed  of,  if  in  their  eagerness  to  ob- 
tain the  labour  they  needed  they  had  not  drawn  in 
a multitude  of  ignorant  immigrants  from  central  and 
southern  Europe?  With  so  long  a life  in  prospect  as 
men  of  science  grant  to  our  planet,  why  should  we  seek 
to  open  all  the  mines  and  cut  down  all  the  forests  and 
leave  nothing  in  the  exploitation  of  natural  resources  to 


BRAZIL 


421 


succeeding  generations  ? In  the  long  run  doubtless  the 
lands,  like  the  tools,  will  go  to  those  who  can  use  them. 
But  it  may  be  well  to  wait  and  see  what  new  conditions 
another  century  brings  about  for  the  world;  and  the 
Latin- American  peoples  may  within  that  time  grow  into 
something  different  from  what  they  now  appear  to  the 
critical  eyes  of  Europe  and  North  America. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 

In  a.d.  1808,  when  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  the  true  Lib- 
erator of  Spanish  America,  moved  his  armies  into  Spain, 
the  dominions  of  the  Spanish  Crown  stretched  south 
eight  thousand  miles  from  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  to  the 
Straits  of  Magellan.  The  population  that  was  scattered 
thinly  over  that  vast  region  was  mostly  native  Indian, 
but  there  may  possibly  have  been  a million  of  pure 
Spanish  stock  and  many  times  that  number  of  mixed 
Spanish  and  Indian  blood.  All  except  the  Indians 
spoke  Spanish;  all  except  the  wild  heathen  tribes 
were  Roman  Catholics,  and  the  white  men  were  ortho- 
dox Catholics,  with  universal  and  genuine  horror  of 
heresy.  All  who  were  of  pure  European  or  of  mixed 
blood  followed  customs  and  held  ideas  generally  similar; 
all  had  been  ruled  by  governors  sent  from  Spain  under 
laws  and  an  administrative  system  drawn  up  and  carried 
out  on  similar  lines.  In  every  region  the  Roman 
Church  was  powerful  and  monasteries  abounded.  There 
were  no  sharp  local  distinctions  among  this  Spanish  and 
Indo-Spanish  population.  Intercolonial  trade  was  in- 
deed forbidden,  and  permission  to  travel  from  one 
colony  to  another  had  to  be  obtained.  But  as  all  were 
subjects  of  one  king  and  members  of  one  Church,  there 
was  no  political  separation  beyond  that  which  was  in- 

422 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


423 


volved  in  the  existence  of  various  local  jurisdictions. 
A native  of  Mexico  was  not  a stranger  on  the  banks 
of  the  Orinoco  or  the  Parana  any  more  than  the  Bos- 
tonian Benjamin  Franklin  had  been  a stranger  when  he 
came  to  settle  in  Philadelphia.  They  could  hardly  be 
said  to  form  one  nation,  for  they  had  no  national 
organization,  but  they  all  alike  belonged  to  the  same 
Hispano- American  nationality. 

In  a.d.  1908  there  were  in  the  same  area,  but  now  be- 
tween the  Rio  Grande  Del  Norte  and  Cape  Horn  (the 
territories  now  known  as  California,  Arizona,  and  New 
Mexico  having  by  this  time  become  annexed  to  the 
United  States)  sixteen  independent  republics,1  all  of  which 
had  freed  themselves  from  the  Spanish  Crown  between 
1810,  when  the  first  risings  took  place  in  Mexico 
and  Argentina,  and  1826,  when  the  flag  of  Spain  was 
finally  lowered  on  the  fortress  of  Callao,  the  last  strong- 
hold on  the  American  mainland  of  the  successor  of 
Charles  the  Fifth.  That  which  had  been  one  widely 
scattered  and  loosely  connected  people  had  become 
divided  into  many  distinct  communities,  each  with  its 
own  government,  its  separate  historical  traditions,  its 
local  prides  and  local  antagonisms,  its  more  or  less 
definite  and  sharp-cut  national  consciousness.  From 
the  amorphous  mass  of  protoplasm,  so  to  speak,  of 
1808,  each  part  of  which  was  generally  similar  to  every 


1 Brazil  would  make  a seventeenth,  but  it  was  in  1808  a posses- 
sion ol  Portugal.  The  three  island  republics,  Cuba,  Ilayti,  and  Santo 
Domingo,  bring  up  the  total  number  of  independent  Latin- American 
states  to  twenty. 


424 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


other  part,  there  had  emerged  sixteen  separate  organ- 
isms, some  markedly  different  and  no  two  alike,  al- 
though those  distinctive  features  which  make  up  na- 
tional character  had  become  much  more  fully  developed 
in  some  than  in  others.  That  is  to  say,  there  are  now 
instead  of  one  people  sixteen  new  nations. 

But  can  we  describe  these  sixteen  republics  as  Na- 
tions ? 

What  is  a Nation  ? 

It  is  dangerous  to  offer  a definition  which  may  not 
correspond  to  usage,  for  usage  is  the  only  true  master 
and  interpreter  of  words ; and  usage  is  in  this  case  loose 
and  varying.  But  it  might  be  not  far  wide  of  the  mark 
to  say  that  while  a nationality  is  a population  held 
together  by  certain  ties,  as,  for  example,  language  and 
literature,  ideas,  customs,  and  traditions,  in  such  wise 
as  to  feel  itself  a coherent  unity,  distinct  from  other 
populations  similarly  held  together  by  like  ties  of 
their  own,  a Nation  is  a nationality,  or  a subdivision 
of  a nationality,  which  has  organized  itself  into  a 
political  body,  either  independent  or  desiring  to  be 
independent.  This  description  would  encounter  some 
doubtful  cases.  The  Athenians  in  antiquity  and  the 
Florentines  in  the  Middle  Ages  were  hardly  nations, 
though  they  were  independent  states,  for  they  were 
parts  of  a wider  Greek  and  Italian  people.  The  Swiss, 
Alemannian  Germans  to  begin  with,  grew  slowly  into 
a nation,  and  were  scarcely  so  to  be  described  before 
a.d.  1648.  Now,  though  they  speak  three  languages 
and  spring  from  at  least  three  nationalities,  they 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


425 


are  as  united  a nation  as  there  is  in  the  world.  The 
Magyars  did  not  cease  to  be  a nation  because  their 
constitutional  freedom  and  rights  of  self-government 
were  overthrown  in  1849  and  not  regained  till  nearly 
twenty  years  later.  Were  the  thirteen  American 
colonies  before  1776  a nation,  or  did  they  become  so  in 
that  year,  or  not  till  the  union  of  all  of  them  was  finally 
assured  in  1791  ? Tuscany,  though  independent  under 
its  local  rulers  till  1859,  was  not  a nation,  and  still  less 
were  the  States  of  the  Church.  But  is  Bavaria  to-day 
to  be  deemed  a nation  ? Ireland  and  Scotland  figure  as 
nations  in  after-dinner  speeches  on  the  days  of  their 
respective  saints : are  they  so  at  other  times  also  ? and 
if  they  are,  is  Wales  a nation  ? Were  the  Transvaal 
and  the  Orange  Free  State  nations  before  the  South 
African  war  of  1899  ? They  were  certainly  parts  of 
a Dutch  South  African  nationality.  If  Canada  and 
Australia  are  nations,  is  the  Union  of  South  Africa 
one  also  ? or  does  the  whole  British  people  all  over 
the  world  constitute  a nation  ? 

Without  multiplying  doubtful  cases,  however,  the 
description  presented  above,  and  any  description  which 
tries  to  represent  current  usage,  would  recognize  the 
fact,  that  wherever  a community  has  both  political  in- 
dependence and  a distinctive  character  recognizable  in 
its  members,  as  well  as  in  the  whole  body,  we  call  it  a 
nation.  Applying  such  a test  to  the  Spanish- Amer- 
ican republics,  some  of  them,  such  as  Mexico,  Ar- 
gentina, and  Chile,  are  undeniably  nations,  while  even 
some  at  least  of  the  smaller,  such  as  Cuba,  Ecuador, 


426 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  Paraguay,  have  attained  sufficient  individuality 
and  consciousness  of  corporate  unity  to  make  them  feel 
and  act  together  and  desire  to  preserve  their  independ- 
ence.1 If  they  maintain  that  consciousness  and  that 
independence  for  another  fifty  years,  their  nationhood 
will  be  indisputable.  The  bud  is  opening,  even  if  the 
form  and  colours  of  the  petals  are  not  yet  fully  visible. 

By  what  process,  then,  and  through  the  working  of 
what  forces  did  this  more  or  less  uniform  common  sub- 
stance, this  raw  material  for  the  making  of  states,  which 
a century  ago  was  spread  over  the  vast  Spanish  colo- 
nial empire,  become  differentiated  into  the  sixteen  na- 
tions that  exist  to-day  ? 

There  is  nothing  in  history  more  interesting  than  the 
study  of  the  process  by  which  nations  are  evolved  from 
races  or  tribes.  The  widest  range  of  phenomena  are 
those  supplied  by  the  formation  of  the  kingdoms  of 
modern  Europe  through  the  admixture  or  contact  of 
the  peoples  comprised  in  the  Roman  Empire  with 
the  barbarian  tribes  which  entered  it  or  received  civ- 
ilization from  it.  The  growth  of  France,  Germany, 
Spain,  Portugal,  England,  Scotland,  and  (by  contact 
with  little  mixture)  of  Poland,  Russia,  and  the  Scandi- 
navian states,  and  in  more  recent  times  the  creation 
of  Greece  and  Belgium  and  Rumania  and  the  re-crea- 
tion as  nations  of  Servia  and  Bulgaria,  are  all  instances 
of  the  process.  But  in  the  case  of  the  greater  and  older 
nations  this  process  occupied  many  centuries,  and  its 

1 Whether  the  same  can  be  said  of  some  of  the  Central  American 
republics  may  be  doubted. 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


427 


earlier  stages  are  obscure.  Here  in  Spanish  America 
it  has  been  going  on  under  the  eyes  of  the  civilized 
world  in  an  age  when  everything  is  or  can  be  known,  and 
it  has  taken  only  a hundred  years.  In  all  probability, 
nothing  like  this,  no  creation  of  new  national  entities 
coming  about  over  so  large  an  area  in  so  short  a time, 
can  ever  occur  again.  The  causes  which  have  produced 
these  divergences  from  one  type  into  many,  turning  the 
colonial  Spaniard,  who  was  in  essentials  much  the 
same  kind  of  man  wherever  he  lived,  into  a Mexican 
or  Uruguayan,  a Peruvian,  Chilean,  or  Argentine  (to 
take  a few  of  the  more  marked  new  national  forms),  are 
as  interesting  a subject  for  enquiry  and  reflection  as 
could  engage  the  thoughts  of  a philosophic  historian. 

All  I can  do  here  is  to  suggest  some  of  these  causes 
which  occur  to  the  mind  of  one  who  travels  in  Spanish 
America.  To  work  the  subject  out  in  detail  would 
need  years  of  reading  as  well  as  many  a journey. 
Hitherto  few  of  those  who  have  read  have  travelled, 
and  few  of  those  who  have  travelled  have  read.  I have 
done  so  much  less  of  either  than  the  magnitude  of  the 
subject  demands,  that  I must  ask  indulgence  for  even 
throwing  out  suggestions  which  are  meant  to  urge 
others,  better  equipped  than  myself,  to  prosecute  the 
enquiry. 

The  primary  factor  which  determined  the  territorial 
limits  of  each  republic  is  to  be  found  in  the  existence  in 
colonial  days  of  certain  administrative  divisions.  The 
Viceroyalties  and  Captaincies  General  constituted  so 
many  governmental  areas,  the  inhabitants  of  each  of 


428 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


which  felt  a sort  of  community  among  themselves,  al- 
though they  had  no  share  in  the  government.  In  a few 
of  these  areas  there  existed  what  might  be  called  the 
rudiments  of  a distinctive  character  belonging  to  the  in- 
habitants of  that  area  and  marking  them  off  fropi  those 
who  dwell  in  other  divisions.  In  the  larger  number  of 
areas  there  was  not  yet  anything  of  the  sort.  When 
the  insurrections  broke  out  and  as  the  War  of  Inde- 
pendence proceeded,  the  dwellers  in  each  Yiceroyalty 
or  Captaincy  General  fought  for  themselves  (with  more 
or  less  help  from  insurgent  bands  elsewhere),  and  when 
they  set  up  a revolutionary  government,  they  tried  to 
make  the  old  provincial  capital  the  seat  of  that  govern- 
ment, so  that  in  this  way  the  boundaries  of  the  old 
areas  tended  to  remain,  and  that  which  had  been  an 
administrative  division  passed  into  a Republic.  Yet 
it  was  still  only  a body  of  inhabitants  in  an  area,  not  a 
nation.  What  we  have  to  ask  is  — How  did  these 
groups  of  inhabitants  occupying  each  its  own  territory, 
in  only  some  few  of  whom  did  there  exist  the  rudiments 
of  a distinctive  national  character  — how  did  they  grow 
into  Nations  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word  ? 

The  aim  of  this  chapter  will  accordingly  be  : — 

I.  To  indicate  the  main  influences  which  have  differ- 
entiated the  inhabitants  of  Spanish  America 
into  distinct  Nations.  These  influences  are 
partly  physical,  partly  racial,  partly  historical. 

II.  To  enquire  how  far  the  process  of  differentiation 
has  gone  in  making  the  people  of  any,  and 
which,  of  the  republics  into  true  Nations,  i.e.  in 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


429 


giving  them  both  distinctive  traits  of  character 
and  a strong  national  self-consciousness. 

III.  To  ascertain  to  what  extent  there  remains  among 
the  peoples  of  these  republics  any  common 
Hispano- American  sentiment,  any  sense  of  kin- 
ship linking  them  together  in  spite  of  political 
separation,  possibly  even  underlying  political 
hostility. 

I.  Among  the  causes  or  influences  which  have  tended 
to  differentiation,  the  first  place  may  be  assigned  to  geo- 
graphical position.  Where  one  part  of  a nationality 
is  cut  off  from  the  other  parts  by  the  sea,  or  by  deserts,  or 
by  dense  forests,  any  peculiarities  that  already  belonged 
to  it  tend  to  develop  further  and  become  intensified,  be- 
cause they  are  not  affected  by  contact  from  without ; and 
such  a part,  moreover,  being  isolated,  attains  a stronger 
consciousness  of  itself  as  a separate  social  and  political 
entity.  Two  island  republics,  Cuba  and  Santo  Domingo, 
were  thus  destined  by  nature  to  stand  apart  from  those 
of  the  mainland  as  soon  as  their  connection  with  the 
European  sovereign  had  been  broken.  The  people 
of  Chile,  severed  from  Peru  by  a wide  and  waterless 
desert,  drew  farther  and  farther  apart  from  those  of  that 
country.  The  Chileans  and  the  Argentines  are  divided 
from  one  another  by  a lofty  mountain  range,  passable 
at  a few  points  only,  and  at  those  points  with  difficulty, 
so  the  differences  between  them,  which  more  frequent  in- 
tercourse might  have  lessened,  grew  more  pronounced. 
Paraguay  stands  almost  alone  in  her  forests,  and  till 
steamships  began  to  ply  on  the  great  Parana,  could  be 


430 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


reached  from  the  coast  only  by  a tedious  upstream 
voyage  or  an  even  more  toilsome  land  journey. 

Not  less  important  is  the  influence  of  physical  en- 
vironment in  modifying  both  the  race  itself  and  the 
economic  conditions  of  its  life.  In  Mexico,  for  instance, 
the  existence  of  a compact  area  of  fertile  soil  around 
the  lakes  on  whose  shores  the  semi-civilization  of  the 
men  of  Tezcuco  and  Tenochtitlan  (Mexico  City)  arose, 
created  in  that  area  a comparatively  large  population 
of  pure  Spanish  blood  and  a still  larger  one  of  mixed 
blood  which  ultimately  became  the  core  of  the  Mexi- 
can republic  and  enabled  it  not  only  to  hold  together 
the  outlying  territories,  but,  also,  when  it  got  a strong 
ruler,  to  set  up  a strong  centralized  administration. 
Peru  is  cut  up  by  the  lofty  and  barren  Andean  ranges 
into  a number  of  valleys,  each  more  or  less  isolated. 
Some  of  its  cities,  like  Arequipa,  stand  in  solitary  oases 
surrounded  by  deserts,  while  the  eastern  towns  are 
severed  from  the  capital  by  so  many  ridges  and  gorges 
that  the  formation  of  an  active  and  homogeneous  public 
opinion  has  been  retarded.  Chile,  on  the  other  hand, 
had  till  recently  nearly  all  her  inhabitants  gathered 
in  a comparatively  small  cultivable  area,  favourable  to 
the  growth  of  a united  people,  and  similar  conditions 
have  accelerated  the  material  progress  and  intensified 
the  patriotism  of  Uruguay.  In  the  vast  territories  of 
Colombia  and  Venezuela  where,  besides  three  or  four 
cities  lying  far  apart,  there  are  only  small  settlements 
scattered  through  a region  of  mountain  and  forest,  po- 
litical cohesion  and  the  sense  of  national  life  must  needs 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


431 


advance  far  more  slowly  than  in  a level  and  cultivated 
land  like  Argentina,  covered  with  a network  of  rail- 
ways. 

Climate  has  told  for  much  in  compelling  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  colder  regions  to  work  hard  and  enabling 
those  of  the  hotter  to  take  life  easily.  The  tropical 
states  have  on  the  whole  lagged  behind  the  temperate 
ones,  and  there  is  between  them  a perceptible  differ- 
ence in  character  and  habits.  In  Bolivia  the  combined 
effect  of  the  low  temperature,  thin  air,  extreme  dry- 
ness, and  poor  food  has  not  only  made  a large  part  of 
the  plateau  a sterile  desert,  but  has  also  checked  the  ad- 
vance of  the  aboriginal  race,  and  has  confined  the  popu- 
lation of  Spanish  origin  to  a small  number  of  towns 
lying  so  far  away  from  one  another  that  common  politi- 
cal action  becomes  difficult  and  social  antagonisms  re- 
main acute. 

While  these  physical  differences  have  told  upon  all 
the  divisions  of  Spanish  America,  they  have  been  in 
some  all  the  more  efficient  because  they  have  been  fol- 
lowed by  economic  consequences,  and  have  induced 
certain  forms  of  industrial  life.  Cattle  and  the  horse 
have  determined  the  habits  of  the  Argentine  and  Uru- 
guayan. Mining  has  had  more  to  do  with  the  Peru- 
vian and  the  Mexican.  No  one  of  the  nations  has  taken 
to  a sea-faring  life  except  the  Chileans. 

Whoever  will  compare  Spanish  America  with  Anglo- 
America  (i.e.  the  United  States  and  Canada)  will  be 
struck  by  the  far  greater  differences  of  physical  en- 
vironment between  the  various  parts  of  the  former 


432 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  those  of  the  latter,  where  no  section  of  the  country, 
except  Florida,  Louisiana,  and  Texas  is  oppressively 
hot,  even  in  summer,  and  where  no  section,  till  0De 
reaches  Labrador,  suffers  from  severities  of  cold  and 
wet  such  as  check  settlement  in  the  far  souths  of  Chile 
and  of  Argentina.  Nature  does  less  to  differentiate 
Anglo-American  man  into  varieties  than  she  does  in  the 
case  of  Spanish-American  man. 

Even  more  important  than  the  influence  of  natural 
conditions  has  been  the  presence  in  Spanish  America  of 
the  aboriginal  tribes.  These  differed  greatly  in  intelli- 
gence, courage,  and  a disposition  to  industry.  In  some 
regions  they  were  both  numerous  and  warlike,  as  in 
Mexico  and  Chile.  In  others  they  were  numerous  but 
easily  conquered,  as  in  the  Peruvian  highlands  and 
Central  America  and  Paraguay.  In  some  they  were 
too  few  to  hold  their  ground,  as  in  central  Argentina 
and  Uruguay,  or  so  feeble  as  neither  to  offer  serious 
resistance  nor  furnish  servile  labour.  This  was  the  case 
in  Cuba  and  on  some  of  the  coasts  of  the  Caribbean 
Sea.  The  differences  in  intellectual  capacity  were  ex- 
pressed in  the  degree  of  progress  they  had  made  towards 
civilization ; the  Mexicans  and  the  subjects  of  the  Peru- 
vian Incas  standing  at  the  top,  and  the  Amazonian 
savages  in  the  east  of  Colombia,  Ecuador,  and  Peru  at 
the  bottom  of  the  scale.  As  another  chapter  treats  of 
their  present  relations  to  the  European  part  of  the  popu- 
lation, it  is  enough  to  call  attention  here  to  the  effect  of 
the  infusion  of  native  blood  in  differentiating  various 
parts  of  the  old  colonial  population  from  one  another. 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


433 


The  volume  of  that  infusion  has  been  greater  in  some 
regions  than  in  others,  and  the  native  blood  has  been 
unequal  in  quality.  A half-Indian  people  tends  to 
differ  — whether  for  worse  or  for  better  is  another 
question  — from  a white  people;  and  a people  mixed 
with  Indians  of  a strong  race,  like  the  native  Mexican, 
differs  from  one  which  has  received  a blend  of  weaker 
native  blood.  In  persons  of  mixed  race,  the  white  ele- 
ment predominates,  but  less  evidently  in  physical  appear- 
ance than  in  mental  attributes.  The  mestizos  are  all 
Christians  and  more  generally  educated;  they  draw  their 
ideas  and  habits  from  their  European  rather  than  their 
native  parentage,  which,  indeed,  they  prefer  to  ignore. 

Besides  this  influence,  which  we  may  call  physiological, 
we  must  further  note,  as  a factor  producing  diversity, 
the  social  effect  which  the  presence  of  a native  semiservile 
class  has  upon  the  character  of  the  ruling  element  in  the 
population.  Where  such  a class  supplies  labour,  the  rul- 
ing element  generally  despises  and  refuses  manual  work. 
Where  the  former  is  both  numerous  and  ignorant,  it 
usually  lowers  the  moral  and  probably  also  the  intellec- 
tual standard  of  the  European  inhabitants.  In  some 
republics  the  presence  of  this  class  has  encouraged  civil 
wars  and  revolutions  by  furnishing  Indian  soldiers  who 
can  be  forced  to  fight  and  will  fight  well  for  causes  in 
which  they  take  no  interest.  It  has  moreover  made 
the  provisions  of  constitutions  which  confer  universal 
suffrage  seem  hollow  shams. 

In  some  few  Spanish-speaking  countries,  particularly 
along  the  Caribbean  coasts  and  in  some  of  the  mari- 


434 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


time  towns  of  Colombia  and  Peru,  the  negro,  imported 
after  the  Conquest,  has  become  a race  factor,  mingling 
with  the  whites  to  produce  an  intermediate  breed  which 
is  usually  superior  to  the  pure  black,  and  mingling 
with  the  Indian  to  produce  one  which  is  deemed  to 
have  the  faults  of  both  parents  and  the  merits  of  neither. 
But  it  was  only  the  colony  from  Portugal  which  was 
formerly  the  Empire  and  is  now  the  republic  of  Brazil 
that  received  slaves  on  a great  scale.  There  are  believed 
to  be  now  at  least  eight  millions  of  blacks  and  mulattoes 
in  that  country,  probably  two-fifths  of  the  whole  popu- 
lation. Such  Indian  blood  as  was  mingled  with  the 
Portuguese  settlers  has  become  scarcely  noticeable,  ex- 
cept in  Pard,  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Amazon.  Brazil 
is,  however,  so  different  from  the  Spanish  republics  in 
other  respects  that  one  need  not  insist  on  this  element 
of  diversity. 

From  these  physical  and  racial  influences  I pass  on 
to  those  of  a historical  order.  Chief  among  these  were 
the  long-protracted  struggle  for  independence  and  the 
interminable  civil  wars  that  followed  its  attainment. 
Under  the  Crown  of  Spain  the  collective  life  both  of  the 
inhabitants  of  its  dominions  as  a whole  and  of  each 
section  of  those  inhabitants  had  been  stagnant.  In- 
dependence quickened  its  pulses  and  accelerated  the 
development  of  such  latent  forces  as  existed  into  new 
forms.  The  political  events  of  the  revolutionary  epoch 
and  of  the  ninety  years  that  followed  have  done 
much  not  only  to  create  new  nations,  but  also  to 
mould  them,  while  they  were  growing  up,  into  di- 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


435 


verse  shapes.  In  some  republics  the  civil  wars  lasted 
longer  than  they  did  in  others,  and  left  the  country  more 
exhausted  and  distracted;  in  others  again  foreign  inter- 
vention had  the  effect  of  consolidating  the  people 
and  creating  a stronger  patriotism  than  had  existed  be- 
fore. This  was  conspicuously  the  case  in  Mexico. 
The  French  invasion  and  the  long  struggle  which  ended 
in  the  dethronement  and  death  of  the  unfortunate  Maxi- 
milian of  Hapsburg  determined  the  fortunes  of  that 
country,  extinguishing  the  power  of  the  Church,  and  re- 
newing the  nation’s  confidence  in  itself  which  had  been 
shattered  by  the  war  with  the  United  States.  So,  too, 
the  heroic  efforts  made  by  the  Uruguayans  under  Artigas 
to  shake  off  the  yoke  of  Brazil  and  their  subsequent  con- 
flict with  Argentina,  then  ruled  by  the  tyrant  Rosas, 
left  a permanent  impress  upon  their  character.  In 
most  of  the  Central  American  states,  on  the  other  hand, 
progress  in  education,  in  civil  order,  and  in  the  turn- 
ing to  account  of  natural  resources  has  been  arrested 
by  their  incessant  strife  with  one  another  as  well  as  by 
internal  convulsions. 

The  general  result  of  the  wars  and  revolutions  which 
make  up  so  much  of  Spanish-American  history  has  un- 
doubtedly been  to  differentiate  the  peoples  and  build 
up  separate  nations  and  strengthen  the  national  con- 
sciousness of  the  inhabitants  of  almost  every  republic. 
Whether  that  strengthening  has  been  a good  thing  or 
not,  I do  not  attempt  here  to  enquire.  But  apart  from 
it,  the  other  consequences  of  so  long  a period  of  struggle 
and  bloodshed  have  been  deplorable. 


436 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Effort  and  suffering  do  no  doubt  test  and  try  a com- 
munity. War,  be  it  civil  or  foreign,  never  leaves  men 
the  same  as  it  found  them,  though  the  common  assump- 
tion that  it  makes  them  either  stronger,  or  wiser  in  the 
exercise  of  their  strength,  is  as  false  as  it  is  dangerous. 
If  war,  apart  from  the  pure  aim  and  high  spirit  in  and 
for  which  it  conceivably  may  be,  but  seldom  has  been, 
undertaken,  ennobles  the  soul  as  well  as  toughens  the 
fibre  of  a nation,  what  virtues  ought  it  not  to  have  bred 
in  these  South  American  countries,  where  the  lance  was 
always  glittering  and  the  gun-shot  always  echoing  ? 

Of  the  other  formative  and  stimulative  influences 
which  the  deliverance  from  Spanish  rule  might  have  set 
to  work  upon  the  peoples  of  the  republics,  of  the  develop- 
ment of  science,  art,  and  letters,  and  in  particular  of  that 
part  of  intellectual  life  which  goes  deepest  down  into  the 
soul  of  a people,  theology  and  religious  faith,  of  these 
things  as  influences  in  building  up  a national  individ- 
uality, there  is  little  to  be  said,  because  disturbed  political 
conditions  and  the  backward  state  of  education  checked 
all  such  development.  Until  the  last  thirty  years  it  has 
had  no  fair  chance,  and  in  some  republics  has  little  even 
now.  One  may  observe,  however,  that  in  such  progress 
as  can  be  recorded  the  Church  has  had  scarcely  any  share. 
Both  her  claims  to  authority  and  her  property  have  been 
at  one  time  or  another  (though  much  less  in  recent 
years)  a cause  of  political  conflicts  in  most  republics. 
But  the  unfavourable  conditions  referred  to  have  told 
upon  the  Church  itself,  not  to  add  that  her  ministers  were 
under  Spanish  rule  and  have  continued  to  be  both  less 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


437 


well  instructed  and  (of  course  with  many  exceptions) 
less  exemplary  in  life  than  the  Roman  Catholic  priest- 
hood of  France  or  Germany  or  of  the  United  States. 

The  recent  economic  development  of  some  few  of  these 
countries,  and  especially  the  extension  of  their  agricul- 
ture and  their  mining,  have  naturally  tended  to  give 
a practical  turn  to  thought  and  action,  fixing  men’s 
minds  on  business,  on  the  public  improvements  which 
wealth  makes  possible,  and  on  the  enjoyments  to  which 
it  invites.  If  even  old  and  highly  cultivated  nations, 
like  the  Germans  and  the  Italians,  are  felt  by  them- 
selves and  seen  by  their  neighbours  to  have  been  some- 
what altered  in  spirit  and  aim  under  new  conditions 
of  industrial  and  commercial  life,  how  much  more  must 
similar  conditions  tell  upon  communities  intellectually 
younger  and,  so  to  speak,  more  fluid,  less  “set”  in  a 
definite  mould.  These  causes  have  been  increasing  the 
differences  between  the  more  progressive  and  the  more 
backward  republics.  They  have  been  setting  their  stamp 
upon  Argentina  and  Chile.  A similar  change,  though 
it  affected  only  a small  class,  was  discernible  in  Mexico 
during  the  later  years  of  the  supremacy  of  Porfirio  Diaz. 

Immigration  from  Europe  has  not  yet  gone  far  enough 
to  affect  the  “ type  ” of  any  South  American  people,  or 
bear  a part  in  the  process  of  national  differentiation.  It 
may,  however,  do  so  in  the  future,  for  in  countries  where 
prosperity  has  created  a large  demand  for  labour,  and 
where  public  order  is  little  disturbed,  there  begins  to  be 
an  inflow  of  settlers  from  abroad.  In  Mexico  and  Cuba 
immigration  is  steady  though  not  large,  and  is  drawn 


438 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


almost  entirely  from  Spain.  In  Peru  it  is  small,  for  the 
Chinese  and  Japanese  who  come  are  too  few  to  affect 
the  character  of  the  population.  Some  Germans  entered 
Chile  thirty  years  ago,  and  constitute  a valuable  though 
comparatively  small  element.  A far  greater  number  have 
settled  in  southern  Brazil.  Uruguay  receives  a consider- 
able but  at  present  (1912)  declining  immigration  both 
from  Italy  and  from  Spain.  To  Argentina  there  come  not 
only  many  Spaniards,  but  a still  fuller  stream  of  Italians, 
who  now  form  so  large  an  element  that  the  Argentine  of 
the  future  will  be  probably  one-third  Italian  in  blood.1 
Into  the  other  Spanish-speaking  parts  of  the  New 
World  there  is  at  present  very  little  immigration,  nor 
are  the  tropical  regions  fitted  for  agricultural  settlers 
from  Europe.  Chinese  or  Japanese  or  Indian  coolies 
might  do  better,  and  there  are  already  plenty  of  Hindus 
in  British  Guiana.  Should  valuable  minerals  be  dis- 
covered in  places  where,  as  in  Colombia,  Venezuela,  and 
northern  Brazil,  labour  is  scarce,  the  temptation  to 
introduce  Asiatics  would  be  strong. 

II.  We  have  now  to  enquire  what  have  been  the  results 
of  the  process  of  nation-building.  How  many,  and 
which,  of  the  republics  that  were  once  parts  of  the  great 
Spanish  dominion  have  now  grown  to  be  true  nations  ? 
But  here  a preliminary  difficulty  meets  us.  In  speak- 
ing of  the  peoples  of  these  republics,  are  we  to  think 
of  all  their  inhabitants,  or  only  of  the  ruling  Hispano- 
American  element,  excluding  the  aborigines?  Are  the 
aborigines,  and  such  collective  character  as  they  possess, 
1 See  above,  Chapter  IX. 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


439 


to  be  taken  into  account  when  we  seek  to  determine 
which  communities  deserve  to  be  called  nations,  or  are 
they  rather  to  be  deemed  subject  tribes  standing  out- 
side and  not  sharing  in  genuine  national  life? 

Without  anticipating  what  will  be  said  in  a later  chap- 
ter, it  is  enough  to  remark  here  that  from  the  United 
States  frontier  at  El  Paso  in  latitude  32°  north,  down  to 
the  Tropic  of  Capricorn  (latitude  23°  south)  a very  large, 
though  unascertained  and  at  present  unascertainable 
part  of  the  population  — possibly  a majority  — consists 
of  Indians,  most  of  whom  speak  their  native  languages, 
and  some  of  whom  are  mere  savages.  Even  those  who, 
like  the  Quichuas  and  Aymaras  of  the  Andean  plateau, 
are  in  a fashion  civilized,  lead  a life  apart,  and,  though  in 
most  republics  legally  citizens,  have  practically  nothing 
to  do  with  the  government  of  the  countries  they  inhabit, 
except  as  combatants  in  its  foreign  or  civil  wars.  In 
Argentina  the  question  scarcely  arises,  because  nearly 
all  the  population  is  of  European  stock,  while  in  Chile 
the  Araucanians  are  practically  the  only  pure  Indians 
left.  We  must,  therefore,  restrict  our  view  to  the  two 
other  elements,  the  European  and  the  mixed,  these 
forming,  for  nearly  all  practical  purposes,  one  body. 
It  is  of  them,  not  of  the  Indians,  that  we  have  to  think 
when  we  ask  how  far  the  inhabitants  of  each  republic 
have  advanced  into  true  nationhood. 

For  the  purpose  of  determining  whether  any  com- 
munity ought  to  be  deemed  a nation,  one  must  dis- 
tinguish two  things  which  are  apt  to  be  confounded. 
The  one  thing  is  the  presence  in  the  community  of  a dis- 


440 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tinctive  national  character,  the  other  is  the  presence  of 
strong  national  sentiment.  The  former  consists  in  the 
possession  by  the  members  of  the  community  of  certain 
attributes  and  certain  qualities,  visible  in  its  collective 
action,  which  are  peculiar  to  it,  and  mark  it^off  from 
other  communities.  The  latter  is  the  consciousness  of 
political  unity,  taking  shape  in  the  spirit  of  self-assertion 
against  other  communities,  expressing  itself  in  the  effort 
to  make  good  the  community’s  position  in  the  world, 
to  push  its  claims  and  to  defend  its  rights.  The  former 
is  in  practice  usually  accompanied  by  the  latter ; that  is  to 
say,  a community  whose  members  feel  themselves  to  be  a 
political  entity,  with  distinctive  ideas  and  traditions  of 
their  own,  naturally  desires  to  prevent  itself  from  being 
overridden  or  swamped  by  other  communities.  The  lat- 
ter, however,  does  not  necessarily  imply  the  former.  A 
community  may  have  little  that  is  peculiar  or  distinctive ; 
may  have  no  racial  traits  of  its  own,  no  literature,  no 
special  beliefs  or  customs,  and  a history  too  short  to  have 
formed  traditions.  Yet  the  circumstances  of  that  short 
history,  coupled  with  vanity  (collective  and  individual) 
and  a combative  spirit,  may  have  created  a sensitive 
and  inflammable  patriotism  which  makes  the  com- 
munity feel  and  act  as  a Nation,  however  little  there 
may  be  to  distinguish  it  from  surrounding  peoples 
beyond  the  fact  that  historical  accidents  have  divided 
it  from  them  and  started  it  on  a course  of  its  own.  In 
this  latter  set  of  cases,  an  observer  who  studies  the 
community  may  discover  nothing  that  constitutes  a 
distinctive  national  character.  Its  citizens  may  seem 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


441 


much  the  same  in  ideas  and  habits  as  those  of  the 
other  independent  branches  of  the  same  nationality 
around  them.  Yet  they  may  be  found  to  hate  those 
neighbours  of  the  same  speech  just  as  bitterly  as  races 
that  have  been  secular  enemies,  like  Turkomans  and 
Persians,  hate  one  another.  , 

Applying  these  tests  to  the  Latin-American  republics, 
it  will  appear  that  by  both  tests  several  of  the  greatest 
are  indisputably  nations.  Chile  and  Argentina  have 
each  of  them  a distinctive  national  quality  which  so 
marks  them  off  from  their  neighbours  that  even  the 
passing  traveller  can  discern  it.  They  have  national 
character  as  well  as  national  sentiment.  So,  too,  have 
Mexico  and  Peru.1  The  same  thing  is  true  of  Uruguay, 
the  people  of  which,  originally  the  same  as  that  of 
Argentina,  have  developed,  in  the  course  of  a tempestu- 
ous history,  a somewhat  different  type.  Brazil,  being 
Portuguese,  has  always  had  a character  of  its  own. 
These  six  republics  may  all  be  deemed  to  be  nations 
in  the  European  sense  of  the  word.  I have  not  visited 
Paraguay,  but  should  suppose  that  in  it  the  numerical 
preponderance  of  the  native  Guarani  stock  brings  about 
a result  similar  to  that  which  an  infusion  of  coloured 
blood  has  had  in  Cuba,  but  more  marked. 

In  most  of  the  other  republics  there  seems  to  be  much 
less  that  can  be  called  distinctive  of  each.  Colombians, 

1 Though,  no  doubt,  there  is  between  the  inhabitants  of  southern 
Mexico  and  their  neighbours,  the  men  of  Guatemala  and  Honduras, 
no  marked  difference,  just  as  there  is  not  much  between  the  men  of 
Northern  Peru  and  their  neighbours  in  Ecuador. 


442 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Venezuelans,  and  Ecuadorians  inhabit  regions  generally 
similar,  have  had  a similar  history,  and  have  all  received 
about  an  equal  infusion  of  native  blood,  though  in 
each  — and  especially  in  Colombia  — there  are  some  few 
old  Spanish  families  who  have  remained  unaffected. 
The  average  citizen  of  any  of  these  countries  is  said  to 
be  but  slightly  distinguishable  from  the  average  citizen  of 
either  of  the  other  two.1  The  same  is  the  case  as  regards 
Guatemala,  Honduras,  and  Nicaragua.  But  in  each 
and  all  of  these  states  there  is  a profusion  of  militant 
nationalist  spirit,  which,  in  Central  America,  has  been 
fostered  by  frequent  wars.  Ecuador  has  been  repeatedly 
on  the  point  of  taking  up  arms  against  Colombia  on  one 
side  and  Peru  on  the  other,  over  disputes  about  territory. 
So  far  as  national  sentiment  can  make  a nation,  these 
republics  have  it  to  overflowing.  Their  common 
Hispano-American  nationality  no  more  checks  aggres- 
sive displays  of  enmity  than  a common  Tuscan  origin 
mitigated  the  strife  of  Florence  and  Siena,  or  a common 
Boeotian  origin  the  hatred  of  Thebes  and  Plataea. 

The  republic  whose  individuality  has  been  most  fully 
developed  is  Chile.  Its  citizens  are  seen  at  first  sight 
to  be  Chileans,  just  as  in  Europe  we  recognize  at  once 
a member  of  any  of  the  leading  peoples.  Most  Spanish 
Americans  are  good  fighters,  but  the  Chileans  perhaps 
the  best ; for  they  are  the  children  of  the  most  dogged 
of  the  native  races  as  well  as  of  the  most  stalwart  of 
the  Spanish  settlers.  The  same  combination  of  patriot- 

1 However,  a North  American  friend  tells  me  that  he  can  usually 
tell  a Venezuelan  from  a Colombian. 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


443 


ism  and  pugnacity  is  seen  in  the  Uruguayans.  In 
character  as  well  as  in  speech,  the  Argentines  are  also 
beginning  to  shew  a character  different  from  that  of 
the  other  peoples ; but  the  mental  and  moral  type, 
as  is  natural  in  a country  rapidly  growing  and  deluged 
with  immigrants,  is  not  yet  fully  formed. 

It  may  be  asked  whether  the  best  evidence  of  the 
emergence  of  a genuine  and  distinctively  national  life 
ought  not  to  be  found  in  the  growth  of  a national  lit- 
erature expressing,  in  whatever  form,  the  ardour  and 
the  aspirations  of  the  people.  Those  who  quote  the 
age  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  the  age  of  Lewis  the  Four- 
teenth as  instances  to  support  the  doctrine  that  eras  of 
successful  war  and  growing  power  herald,  or  coincide 
with,  an  epoch  of  literary  creation,  may  expect  to  find 
that  the  incessant  strife  which  has  kept  hot  the  blood  of 
the  citizens  in  some  republics,  and  the  rapid  material 
progress  of  others,  promise  an  era  of  intellectual  produc- 
tion in  South  America.  Of  this,  however,  there  has 
been  so  far  no  sign.  National  spirit  seems  little  dis- 
posed to  flow  in  this  channel.  In  the  southern  republics 
there  is  plenty  of  energy,  but  not  much  of  it  is  di- 
rected towards  art  or  science  or  letters.  The  long  and 
fierce  conflict  of  Chile  and  Peru  was  marked  on  both 
sides  by  much  valour  and  some  heroism,  but  no  poem 
like  the  Araucana  followed.  In  the  more  backward 
states,  incessant  strife  has  hindered  instead  of  stimu- 
lating intellectual  as  well  as  economic  progress.  In  the 
prosperous  ones,  men’s  minds  are  bent  upon  the  develop- 
ment of  natural  resources,  and  in  the  very  richest,  where 


444 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


there  should  be  most  leisure  for  mental  cultivation, 
upon  material  pleasures  and  luxuries. 

III.  We  have  still  one  more  question  to  ask  before 
closing  this  consideration  of  the  process  by  which  nations 
have  been  evolved  out  of  the  old  administrative  divisions 
of  Spanish  America,  divisions  originally  due  to  the  his- 
torical accidents,  which  had  in  colonial  times  placed  dif- 
ferent districts  under  the  authority  of  different  officials. 
How  far  does  there  exist  among  the  peoples  of  these 
republics  the  sense  of  a common  Hispano-American 
nationality  ? Do  they  feel  their  common  Spanish  ori- 
gin, together  with  Spanish  literature  and  the  ideas  and 
social  customs  which  they  share,  to  be  a source  of  com- 
mon pride  and  a bond  of  unity  between  them,  linking 
them  together  despite  political  severances  and  antago- 
nisms? Spaniards  had  a certain  amount  of  common 
Spanish  feeling  before  Castile  and  Aragon  were  united, 
and  Italians,  so  far  from  ceasing  to  feel  themselves  Ital- 
ians during  the  centuries  before  1848,  when  they  were 
cut  up  into  many  states,  some  of  them  ruled  by  foreign 
dynasties,  were  stirred  by  a more  vehement  national- 
ism in  that  year  than  ever  before.  Can  one,  then,  for 
any  and  for  what  purposes,  treat  Spanish  America  as 
being  one  whole,  either  intellectually  or  sentimentally  ? 

It  has  already  been  observed  that  to  the  traveller 
the  differences  between  one  republic  and  another  seem 
comparatively  slight,  not  greater  than  those  which  he 
would  have  noted  in  wandering  leisurely  through  Ger- 
many before  1866  and  1870  when  first  the  North  German 
Confederation  and  then  the  new  German  Empire  came 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


445 


into  being.  Not  only  is  the  language  the  same,  with 
dialectic  variations  which  are  comparatively  few  when 
one  considers  the  vast  area  and  the  large  aboriginal  ele- 
ment in  the  population,  but  manners  and  social  usages 
are  similar  everywhere,  though  less  polished  in  the 
wilder  parts. 

Similarity  goes  even  deeper,  for  it  is  found  in  ideas 
and  in  mental  habits.  A Costa  Rican  and  an  Argentine 
differ  less  than  a Texan  does  from  a Vermonter,  or  a 
Caithness  man  from  a Devonshire  man.  All  remain 
in  a sense  Spanish;  that  is,  they  are  much  more  like 
Spaniards  and  more  like  one  another  than  they  are  like 
Frenchmen  or  Italians.  They  are  nearer  to  one  another 
than  North  Americans  are  to  Englishmen.  They  have 
the  broad  features  of  Spanish  character  and  tempera- 
ment, — the  love  of  sonorous  phrases,  the  sensitiveness 
to  friendliness  or  affront,  the  sense  of  personal  dignity, 
steady  courage  in  war,  and  the  power  of  patient  endur- 
ance. And  among  men  of  education  and  thought  the 
basis  of  intellectual  character  and  the  sense  of  moral 
values  seems  to  be  substantially  the  same. 

Nevertheless,  the  feeling  of  a common  Hispano- 
American  brotherhood  is  weak.  In  Old  Spain  there 
was  before  and  during  the  sixteenth  century  a localism 
strong  enough  to  make  Catalonians  and  Castilians 
and  Andalusians  care  more  for  their  province  than 
for  Spain,  unless,  of  course,  a question  of  national 
union  against  the  foreigner  came  in.  The  sentiment  of 
racial  fraternity  expressed  in  the  saying  that  “ blood  is 
thicker  than  water  ” is  easily  suspended  or  even  over- 


446 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ridden  and  for  the  time  extinguished  by  political  bitter- 
ness. The  Thebans,  according  to  the  story,  fined  their 
great  poet  because  he  had  consecrated  two  splendid 
fines  to  the  praise  of  Athens.  Not  even  the  closest  liter- 
ary and  commercial  intercourse  and  the  pride  -of  an  an- 
cient and  glorious  stock  prevented  the  people  of  New 
England  from  hating  those  of  old  England  for  more  than 
a generation  after  the  War  of  1812.  Among  the  Spanish 
Americans  literature  and  historical  traditions  have  not 
been  forces  making  for  cohesion,  for  there  has  been,  in 
most  of  the  republics,  little  literary  production,  and  their 
traditions  seldom  go  back  further  than  the  revolution- 
ary war. 

Were  there  then  no  memories  of  Spanish  greatness  ? 
These  may  have  had  some  power  in  colonial  days  while 
the  struggle  of  Spain  and  Catholicism  against  England 
and  Holland  was  at  its  height.  But  in  later  times  the 
preference  shewn  by  the  viceroys  to  persons  sent  out 
from  the  mother  country,  and  the  habit  of  reserving 
for  them  all  offices  of  profit,  exasperated  the  criollos,  as 
the  native-born  colonists  were  called.  They  were 
further  alienated  by  the  stupidly  repressive  character 
of  colonial  administration.  These  follies  and  abuses, 
and  the  cruelties  which  accompanied  the  long  War  of 
Independence,  seem  to  have  effaced  the  sense  of  any 
community  based  on  the  Spanish  name.  One  might, 
indeed,  have  rather  found  a bond  in  the  common  aver- 
sion to  Spain  and  in  a sympathy  with  one  another 
springing  out  of  the  struggle  against  her  power.  The 
war  was,  however,  in  the  main,  waged  independently  by 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


447 


each  colony.  The  Argentine  army  of  San  Martin  gave 
effective  help  to  Chile,  and  with  Chilean  troops  practi- 
cally achieved  the  liberation  of  Peru,  where  the  royal 
cause  was  strongest ; and  in  that  result  the  Venezuelan 
Bolivar  had  also  a share.  Colombia  and  Venezuela 
helped  one  another,  and  both  helped  Ecuador.  But  so 
far  has  this  codperation  been  from  becoming  a basis  for 
friendship,  that  the  bitterest  of  all  South  American 
antagonisms  is  that  of  Peru  and  Chile,  and  it  is  only 
recently  that  the  danger  of  a conflict  between  Chile  and 
Argentina  has  disappeared. 

Neither  has  their  common  profession  of  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith  served  to  strengthen  affection  among  the 
republics.  As  there  was  no  Protestantism  in  Spanish 
America,  they  were  never  called  upon  to  rally  together 
in  defence  of  the  Church,  and  in  some  republics  men 
united  to  attack  her  privileges  or  her  property.  She 
has  often  brought  not  rpeace,  but  a sword.  The  only 
thing  that  to-day  would  draw  the  republics  into  line 
and  knit  them  together  would  be  any  threat  of  aggres- 
sion from  outside.  They  have  long  ceased  to  fear  in- 
vasion, still  less  subjugation,  by  any  European  power. 
But  the  enormous  strength  of  the  United  States  and 
recollections  both  of  the  war  she  waged  against  Mexico 
in  1846  and  of  some  more  recent  events  make  them 
watch  the  actions  of  that  country  with  a sensitive  sus- 
picion which  even  the  correctness  of  her  conduct  in 
twice  evacuating  Cuba  has  not  entirely  dispelled. 

The  observer  who  has  realized  that  many  of  these 
states  are  not  natural  political  entities,  but  the  creation 


448 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  a series  of  accidents,  naturally  wonders  whether 
they  are  likely  to  remain  as  at  present.  May  not  the 
two  or  three  greatest  swallow  up  the  weaker,  or  may 
not  some  of  the  smaller  seek  strength  in  a voluntary 
union,  federal  at  first,  and  perhaps  ultimately^  leading 
to  a unitary  state  ? This  is  not  impossible.  The  three 
republics  of  Colombia,  Venezuela,  and  Ecuador  might 
renew  the  federal  tie  they  dissolved  in  1831.  Some,  or 
all,  of  the  Central  American  republics  might  similarly 
form  a confederation.  Mr.  Root,  when  Secretary  of 
State  of  the  United  States,  tactfully  acting  in  con- 
junction with  Mexico,  succeeded  in  persuading  all  those 
republics  to  set  up  and  promise  to  obey  a sort  of  Federal 
Court  of  Justice  for  the  determination  of  disputes  be- 
tween them,  and  the  Court  still  exists,  though  the  prom- 
ise to  use  it  has  been  generally  forgotten  when  the  time 
came.  There  are  those  who  think  that  Bolivia,  one  of 
the  least  homogeneous  among  South  American  countries, 
may  possibly  be  partitioned,  like  Poland,  by  her  more 
powerful  neighbours,  but  of  this  there  seems  no  present 
risk.  It  is  chiefly  in  Central  America  that  the  existing 
situation  may  be  deemed  to  lack  stability,  for  while 
Costa  Rica  and  Salvador  are  comparatively  peaceful 
and  well-governed  states,  and  Guatemala  has  latterly 
kept  quiet,  Nicaragua  and  Honduras  have  been  in  a 
state  of  constant  disturbance,  and  any  ambitious  presi- 
dent attaining  power  in  either  might  be  tempted  to 
attack  his  neighbours. 

It  is  of  more  importance  to  enquire  what  are  the  pros- 
pects of  a continued  and  durable  peace  in  the  continent 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS  449 

of  South  America.  Here  three  states  stand  out  as  far 
stronger  than  any  of  the  others.  Chile,  Argentina,  and 
Brazil  have  all  of  them  considerable  armies,  and  have 
now  provided  themselves  with  fleets,  including  powerful 
ironclads,  not  in  any  direct  or  immediate  contemplation 
of  war,  nor  because  any  one  of  them  is  threatened  by  any 
other  naval  power,  but  apparently  in  imitation  of  the 
United  States  and  of  the  largest  nations  of  the  Old 
World.  It  seems  to  be  thought  nowadays  that  the  dig- 
nity and  status  of  great  nations  require  a big  navy, 
just  as  in  the  sixteenth  century  a nobleman  of  high  de- 
gree was  expected  to  travel  about  with  and  maintain  a 
crowd  of  useless  retainers.  Each  of  these  three  nations  is 
as  strong  as  any  two  of  the  other  republics.  Next  to 
them  come  Peru  and  Uruguay,  while  the  northern  states, 
Ecuador,  Colombia,  and  Venezuela,  find  their  chief  de- 
fensive strength  in  the  difficult  nature  of  their  territories. 

There  has  been  no  war  (other  than  a civil  war)  in 
South  America  since  1883,  when  peace  was  made  be- 
tween Chile,  Peru,  and  Bolivia.  The  tension  over  dis- 
puted boundaries  between  Argentina  and  Chile  ended 
with  the  acceptance  of  the  Delimitation  Award  made  by 
the  king  of  England  in  1902.  The  friction  between 
Argentina  and  Brazil  which  arose  once  or  twice  at  a 
later  date  seems  to  have  passed  away,  and  the  friendly 
relations  now  subsisting  between  these  three,  which  one 
may  call  the  Great  Powers  of  the  Continent,  are  of  good 
augury  for  the  averting  of  hostilities,  more  than  once 
threatened,  between  Ecuador  and  Peru  and  between  Co- 
lombia and  Ecuador.  The  influence  of  the  United  States 


450 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


also  has  been  usefully  exerted  towards  the  same  end. 
Most  of  the  causes  to  which  European  wars  have  been 
due  are  absent  from  this  Continent.  There  are  no  re- 
ligious differences.  There  are,  as  between  states,  no  race 
questions,  no  nationalities  held  in  bondage  against  their 
will  and  struggling  to  be  free.  There  are  no  rival  claims 
to  lay  hold  of  unoccupied  or  semicivilized  territories  in 
other  parts  of  the  world. 

Fish,  and  the  element  in  which  fish  live,  have  often 
been  quarrelled  over  elsewhere,  but  in  South  America 
there  are  no  fishing  rights  worth  a quarrel  (except  per- 
haps the  pearl  fisheries  of  Panama),  and  the  only  water 
questions  that  have  ever  given  trouble  are  those  relating 
to  the  respective  jurisdictions  of  Argentina  and  Uruguay 
in  the  river  Plate  estuary  and  regarding  the  navi- 
gation rights  of  Colombia  and  Venezuela  in  the  river 
Orinoco.  Boundary  disputes  remain.  Some  of  them, 
like  that  of  Chile  and  Argentina,  that  of  Bolivia 
and  Argentina,  and  that  of  Brazil  and  Peru,  have 
been  recently  settled,  but  there  are  still  outstanding 
not  only  the  controversy  between  Peru  and  Chile  regard- 
ing Tacna  and  Arica,1  but  also  the  three-cornered  quarrel 
of  Colombia,  Ecuador,  and  Peru  about  their  respective 
claims  to  the  half-explored  Amazonian  region  in  which 
their  territories  meet  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Andes. 

There  remains  an  unclassifiable  margin  of  other  possi- 
ble incidents  which  might  precipitate  into  war  the  inhab- 
itants of  the  more  backward  republics,  men  of  an  over- 

1 Steps  have  recently  been  taken  for  smoothing  down  this  con- 
troversy, and  diplomatic  relations  between  Chile  and  Peru  seem 
likely  to  be  now  resumed.  (Note  to  edition  of  February,  1913.) 


THE  RISE  OF  NEW  NATIONS 


451 


sensitive  and  explosive  temper,  a temper  which  holds 
every  question  to  be  one  of  honour,  and  even  if  it  has 
been  induced  to  accept  a reference  to  arbitration,  refuses 
to  accept  the  award  when  rendered.  Thus  the  danger 
of  wars  in  this  Continent  cannot  be  deemed  to  have 
vanished,  though  it  has  so  greatly  diminished  that 
its  extinction  seems  to  approach.  Let  us,  nevertheless, 
remember  one  possible  contingency.  Now  and  then 
there  has  arisen  in  some  republic  a man  of  ruthless  force 
whose  unslaked  ambition,  after  it  has  made  him  master 
of  his  own  country,  turns  its  arms  against  its  neighbours. 
Though  there  are  signs  that  the  era  of  revolutions  and 
tyrannies  is  passing  away,  such  a man  might  again 
appear,  rising  by  the  favour  of  the  populace  and  ruling 
by  military  force,  and  he  might  try  to  strengthen  his 
domestic  control  by  foreign  conquest. 

Of  wars  with  European  Powers  there  has  for  a long 
time  past  been  no  question,  and  as  those  Powers  do  not 
try  to  annex  South  American  territories,  and  have  no 
causes  of  quarrel  except  when  their  subjects  complain  of 
debts  unpaid  and  injuries  inflicted,  so  the  South  Ameri- 
cans have  not  taken  a hand  in  the  game  of  Old  World 
politics.  They  need  not  now  be  tempted  to  do  so,  for  there 
is  at  present  plenty  in  the  changeful  relations  of  their  own 
republics  to  engage  the  capacity  of  the  ablest  statesman. 
As  to  what  may  happen  when  one  or  two  of  the  South 
American  countries  have  reached  the  population  and 
wealth  of  France  or  Italy,  it  is  vain  to  speculate.  Those 
who  live  to  see  that  day  will  see  a world  wholly  unlike 


our  own. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


/ 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 

Although  races,  unlike  in  character  and  differing  in 
the  scale  of  upward  progress,  must  have  come  into 
contact  from  the  earliest  times,  it  is  only  in  recent 
years  that  the  phenomena  attending  that  contact  have 
been  carefully  observed  and  studied.  From  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century  European  nations  have  been  con- 
quering the  backward  races.  In  some  countries  they 
enslaved,  in  others  they  extirpated,  these  races.  They 
have  now  portioned  out  the  whole  world  of  savagery, 
barbarism,  and  semicivilization  among  themselves,  so 
that,  as  the  result  of  discoveries,  wars,  and  treaties,  six 
great  and  three  smaller  powers 1 have  now  appropriated 
all  the  extra-European  world,  except  three  or  four  an- 
cient Asiatic  states.  In  our  own  day  the  questions 
connected  with  race  contact  have  obtained  both  a new 
moral  interest,  because  the  old  methods  of  killing  off  the 
so-called  lower  branches  of  mankind  by  the  sword  or  by 
slavery  have  fallen  into  discredit,  and  also  a new  scien- 
tific interest,  because  we  have  become  curious  to  know 
what  are  the  effects  of  a mixture  of  markedly  dissimilar 
racial  stocks.  Such  mixture  raises  some  of  the  most  ob- 
scure problems  in  the  doctrine  of  heredity:  Does  the 

1 Britain,  France,  Germany,  Italy,  Russia,  the  United  States, 
Belgium,  Holland,  and  Portugal. 

452 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  453 


blending  of  one  race  with  another  tend  to  weaken  or  to 
improve  the  breed,  and  how  far  are  any  marked  qualities 
of  one  parent  stock  transmissible  by  blood  to  a mixed 
progeny  which  is  placed  in  and  powerfully  affected  by 
a different  environment  ? Spanish  America  offers  a large 
and  varied  field  for  the  study  of  these  and  other  similar 
questions,  and  a field  which  has  been,  so  far,  little  ex- 
amined. My  own  knowledge  does  not  go  far  enough 
to  enable  me  to  do  more  than  state  a few  broad  facts 
and  suggest  to  those  who  have  better  opportunities  for 
enquiry  some  of  the  problems  which  the  subject  presents. 

When  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  conquerors  began 
to  occupy  the  New  World  they  found  it  peopled  every- 
where by  native  tribes  whose  physical  characteristics 
and,  to  some  extent,  their  languages  also,  indicated  that 
although  they  had  inhabited  America  during  countless 
ages,  they  probably  all  had  the  same,  and  that  an  east 
Asiatic,  origin.  No  part  of  the  two  continents  from 
Behring’s  Straits  to  Cape  Horn  (except  a few  hopelessly 
barren  deserts)  was  quite  untenanted,  but  some  re- 
gions were  far  more  populous  than  others.  These  regions 
were  the  high  plateaus  of  Anahuac  (Mexico)  with  the 
adjoining  lower  regions  of  Yucatan  and  Guatemala,  the 
plateau  of  Bogota,  and  the  plateau  of  Peru.  It  was  in 
these  that  the  greatest  progress  had  been  made  toward 
civilization  and  a settled  agricultural  life ; while  the 
lower  woodlands  and  the  more  or  less  arid  prairies, 
such  as  those  of  the  Missouri  and  of  southern  Argen- 
tina, were  more  thinly  inhabited.  There  may  well 
have  been  in  Anahuac  and  Yucatan  as  many  people  as  in 


454 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


all  the  rest  of  North  America,  and  in  the  Peruvian  realm 
of  the  Incas  as  many  people  as  in  all  the  rest  of  South 
America. 

Now  the  existence  of  this  aboriginal  population  has 
been  and  still  is  a factor  of  the  first  magnitude  in  all 
parts  of  the  continent  (except  Argentina  and  Uruguay, 
where  it  hardly  exists),  and  in  this  fact  lies  one  of  the 
most  striking  contrasts  between  the  northern  and 
southern  halves  of  the  Western  Hemisphere.  The  im- 
portance of  the  native  Indian  element  in  South  America 
— and  the  same  thing  holds  true  of  Mexico  and  Central 
America  — resides  partly  in  the  fact  that  it  furnishes 
the  bulk  of  the  labouring  people  and  a large  part  of 
the  army,  partly  in  the  influence  which  it  has  exerted, 
and  still  exerts,  on  the  whites,  commingling  its  blood 
with  theirs  and  affecting  their  habits  and  life  in  many 
ways. 

When  the  Spaniards  came  to  the  New  World,  they 
came  mainly  for  the  sake  of  gold.  Neither  the  extension 
of  trade,  the  hope  of  which  prompted  the  Dutch,  nor  the 
acquisition  of  lands  to  be  settled  and  cultivated,  thereby 
extending  the  dominion  of  their  crowns,  which  moved 
most  of  the  English  and  French,  nor  yet  the  desire  of 
freedom  to  worship  God  in  their  own  way,  which  sent 
out  the  Pilgrims  and  Puritans  of  New  England, — none 
of  these  things  were  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the 
companions  of  Columbus  and  Ponce  de  Leon,  of  Vasco 
Nunez  and  Cortes  and  Pizarro.  No  doubt  they  also 
desired  to  propagate  the  faith,  but  their  spiritual  aims 
were  never  suffered  to  interfere  with  their  secular 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  455 


enterprises.  Few  settlers  came  from  Spain  to  till  the 
land.  The  first  object  was  to  seize  all  that  could  be 
found  of  the  precious  metals,  much  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  natives,  who  thought  that  gold  must 
be  to  them  a sort  of  fetich.  The  next  was  to  dis- 
cover mines  of  those  metals  and  make  the  Indians 
work  them.  The  third  was  to  divide  up  the  more  fertile 
districts  into  large  estates,  allotting  to  each  adventurer 
his  share  of  labourer-natives  along  with  his  share  of  the 
lands.  No  settlers  came  out  to  clear  the  ground  from 
wood  and  build  homes  upon  it,  as  did  the  colonists  of  New 
England,  and  those  also  who  sought  to  create  a New 
France  on  the  St.  Lawrence.  No  Spaniard  thought  of 
tilling  the  soil  himself.  Why  should  he,  when  he  could 
make  others  till  it  for  him  ? Where  it  was  already  under 
cultivation  by  the  native  peasants,  they  were  turned 
into  serfs  attached  to  the  encomienda.  Where  there  was 
forest,  the  conquerors  seldom  troubled  themselves  to  fell 
it,  and  that  which  they  found  as  wilderness  remained 
wilderness  in  the  hands  of  the  savage  tribes.  Where  it 
was  open  prairie,  there  was  as  little  reason  for  disturb- 
ing the  nomads  who  wandered  over  it.  Accordingly, 
the  invaders  became  a ruling  caste,  living  on  the 
labour  of  their  Indian  serfs,  and  for  a long  time  they 
confined  themselves  to  the  lands  on  which  the  latter 
were  already  established.  So  it  befell  that  the  abo- 
rigines, who  in  the  northern  parts  of  North  America 
were  either  destroyed  or  driven  out  to  the  west,  con- 
tinued to  be  in  Spanish  America  one-half  or  more  of 
the  population,  those  who  were  already  semicivilized 


456 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


being  kept  as  labourers,  those  who  were  savages 
being  left  to  themselves  in  their  forests  or  half-desert 
prairies.  No  agricultural  European  population  grew 
up  in  the  settled  districts.  As  there  were  aborigines  on 
the  spot  to  cultivate  the  land  already  improved,  com- 
paratively few  negroes  were  transported  from  Africa,  and 
these  chiefly  to  the  shores  of  the  Caribbean  and  to  Peru. 
It  was  only  in  the  tropical  regions  of  the  Antilles  and 
(somewhat  later)  of  Brazil  that  negro  slavery  grew  up 
on  a large  scale ; and  even  there  mining,  rather  than 
agriculture,  was  the  first  cause  of  their  being  brought 
from  Africa.  The  need  for  negroes  was  not  great  in 
Mexico  or  Peru,  because  the  native  Indians  were  of  a 
hardier  stock  than  the  feeble  Arawaks  of  the  Antilles, 
and  lived  on  under  their  European  masters,  though 
ground  down  and  reduced  in  numbers  by  ill  treat- 
ment. Thus  when  at  last  the  Spanish  colonies  as- 
serted their  independence,  they  started  without  that 
incubus  of  a mass  of  negro  slaves  which  brought  so 
much  trouble  upon  the  southern  states  of  the  North 
American  Union. 

Between  the  numerous  aboriginal  tribes  there  were  the 
greatest  differences  not  only  in  their  degree  of  advance- 
ment toward  civilization,  but  in  intelligence,  in  virility, 
in  fighting  quality,  and  in  that  kind  of  resisting  power 
which  enables  a people  to  survive  under  oppression.  The 
best  fighters  seem  to  have  been  — I am  not  now  includ- 
ing the  tribes  of  eastern  North  America  — the  Aztecs 
of  Mexico  and  the  Mapoche  or  Araucanians  of  Chile. 
The  Caribs  in  some  of  the  Lesser  Antilles  and  in  Vene- 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  457 


zuela  were  fierce  and  tenacious,  while  their  neighbours, 
the  Arawaks  of  the  other  Antilles,  seem  to  have  become 
extinct  under  Spanish  severities  in  half  a century. 
We  have  no  materials  for  even  the  vaguest  guess  at  the 
numbers  of  these  tribes,  but  it  is  evident  that  some  dis- 
appeared altogether,  and  that  others  were  greatly  re- 
duced. The  Chibchas  of  Bogota,  who  were  estimated  at 
a million  when  first  reached  by  the  Conquerors,  are 
said  by  a Spanish  annalist  to  have  been  almost  extermi- 
nated in  twenty  years.  Of  the  Mochicas  or  Yuncas 
on  the  Peruvian  coast,  still  numerous  at  the  coming  of 
Pizarro,  though  many  had  perished  during  their  conquest 
by  the  Incas,  few  were  left  after  half  a century,  and  their 
cities  have  long  been  heaps  of  ruins,  perhaps  partly  be- 
cause the  irrigation  works  which  brought  water  to  them 
were  allowed  to  perish.  A census  taken  in  Peru  by  the 
Viceroy  Toledo  in  a.d.  1575  is  said  to  have  shewn  eight 
millions  of  Indians  in  what  is  now  Peru  and  Bolivia. 
Two  centuries  later  there  were  less  than  half  that  num- 
ber. So  it  is  stated  that  the  Indians  round  Panama 
rapidly  declined  in  number  when  the  Spaniards  estab- 
lished themselves  there.  The  natives  of  northeast- 
ern Brazil  were  killed  off  in  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  though  the  tale  that  two  millions  were  de- 
stroyed in  about  twenty  years  is  scarcely  credible ; 
and  the  less  numerous  tribes  of  central  Argentina  and 
Uruguay  have  entirely  vanished.  The  process  still  goes 
on,  though  to-day  the  means  are  usually  less  violent. 
It  is  intoxicating  liquors  and  European  diseases,  not  any 
ill  treatment  by  the  Chileans,  that  have  been  reducing 


458 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  stalwart  Araucanians  to  a fourth  or  fifth  part  of 
what  they  were  eighty  years  ago,  and  the  Tehuelches 
and  other  Patagonian  tribes,  including  the  wretched 
Fuegians,  are  dying  out  largely  from  natural  causes. 
But  in  the  Amazonian  forests  along  the  Putumayo 
river  — and  that  within  the  last  few  years  — the  cruel- 
ties and  oppressions  practised  by  the  rubber  gatherers 
upon  the  helpless  Indians  have  destroyed  many  thou- 
sands of  lives  and  apparently  altogether  blotted  out 
some  tribes. 

How  many  aborigines  now  remain  in  Latin  America, 
it  is  impossible  to  ascertain.  Even  in  such  advanced 
countries  as  Mexico  and  Peru,  there  are  no  trustworthy 
figures,  not  only  because  it  is  impossible  to  find  means 
of  counting  the  wild  nomads  of  northwestern  Mexico 
and  the  still  wilder  savages  of  eastern  Peru,  but  also 
because,  even  in  the  civilized  districts,  it  is  hard  to  de- 
termine who  is  to  be  deemed  an  Indian  and  who  a 
mestizo,  or  half-breed.  However,  any  estimate,  if  clearly 
understood  to  be  merely  conjectural,  is  better  than 
none  at  all,  so  I may  say  that  in  Mexico  1 there  are 
probably,  out  of  fifteen  millions  of  people,  about  eight 
millions  of  Indians,  with  at  least  six  millions  of  mixed 
blood,  and  the  rest  Spaniards;  while  in  Peru  and  Bolivia, 
out  of  a total  of  about  six  millions,  three  and  a half 
millions  are  Indians,  one  and  a half  millions  mestizos, 

1 The  more  usual  estimates  (e.g.  that  in  the  Statesman’s  Year  Book 
for  1912)  give  19  per  cent  of  pure  Spaniards,  43  per  cent  mestizos,  and 
38  per  cent  Indians,  but  enquiries  made  from  many  well-informed  peo- 
ple in  Mexico  led  me  to  believe  that  the  proportion  of  Indians  is  much 
larger,  and  probably  about  that  stated  in  the  text. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  459 


and  the  rest  more  or  less  pure  Spaniards.1  The  one 
state  which  is  almost  wholly  Indian,  so  that  the 
Guarani  language  is  the  prevailing  tongue,  is  the  inland 
country  of  Paraguay,  and  the  one  which  has  no  In- 
dians at  all  is  Uruguay,  lying  on  the  coast,  not  far  from 
Paraguay.  Of  the  total  population  of  South  America, 
estimated  at  forty-five  millions,  probably  eight  to  nine 
millions  may  be  pure  Indians.  Besides  these  there  are, 
possibly,  thirteen  millions  of  mestizos  or  half-breeds, 
and  fifteen  of  persons  who  deem  themselves  white, 
even  if  a good  many  have  some  infusion  of  aboriginal 
blood.2  But  if  we  omit  Argentina,  almost  entirely,  and 
Uruguay  entirely,  white,  as  well  as  Brazil,  and  confine 
our  view  to  the  other  eight  republics  in  which  the 
Indian  element  is  larger,  a probable  estimate  would 
put  the  number  of  pure  Indians  at  more  than  double 
that  of  the  whites,  and  a little  less  than  that  of  the 
mestizos.  Upon  such  a computation  the  total  quantity 
of  native  blood  would  much  exceed  the  European. 
Such  an  estimate,  however,  can  make  no  claim  to  ac- 
curacy. I give  it  only  because  it  seems,  from  all  I 
could  gather,  to  represent,  in  a rough  sort  of  way,  the 

1 Brazil  is  believed  to  have  nearly  two  millions  of  aborigines, 
most  of  them  savages,  Argentina  perhaps  fifty  thousand,  Chile  one 
hundred  twenty  thousand  (including  the  Fuegians).  For  the  four 
northern  republics  and  for  the  five  of  Central  America  no  fig- 
ures exist,  but  the  bulk  of  their  population,  which  may  be  roughly 
taken  at  nine  millions,  is  Indian,  and  pure  whites  constitute  a 
small  minority,  which  is  probably  largest  in  Costa  Rica,  Colombia, 
and  Panama. 

2 There  are  also  eight  or  nine  millions  of  negroes  and  mulattoes 
(nearly  all  in  Brazil). 


460 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


proportions  of  the  races.  Anyone  who  chooses  to  con- 
sider all  the  more  educated  mestizos  as  whites,  and  all 
Indians  with  any  touch  of  white  blood  as  mestizos, 
would,  of  course,  bring  out  different  figures.  The  ten- 
dency of  official  statistics  is  in  that  direction,  for  every- 
body wishes  to  be  reckoned  as  a white  man,  but  such 
a method  does  not  truly  represent  the  racial  facts. 

Of  the  total  of  about  nine  millions  of  Indians,  two  or 
three  millions  may  be  wild,  Indios  bravos,  as  the  South 
Americans  call  them,  and  in  little  contact  with  civilized 
whites  or  mestizos.  To  this  class  belong  many  of  the 
aborigines  in  Brazil,  Colombia,  Ecuador,  and  Venezuela, 
as  well  as  most  of  the  far  smaller  number  still  left  in 
Argentina.  Of  the  more  or  less  civilized  and  settled 
Indians,  more  than  one-half,  about  three  and  a half  mil- 
lions, are  in  Peru  and  Bolivia ; and  it  is  of  these  that  I 
shall  now  proceed  to  speak,  as  I had  opportunities  in 
these  countries  of  ascertaining  their  position,  and  as  they 
are  themselves  more  interesting,  because  they  are  the 
descendants  of  what  was,  before  the  Spanish  Conquest, 
a comparatively  advanced  people.  What  is  true  of  them 
is,  moreover,  true,  in  a general  sense,  as  regards  the  set- 
tled aborigines  of  the  northern  republics.  In  those 
states,  however,  there  is  no  such  solid  mass  of  sedentary 
agricultural  Indians  as  dwell  on  the  plateaux  and  inter- 
Andean  valleys  of  Peru  and  Bolivia. 

Though  at  the  time  of  the  Conquest  there  were  prob- 
ably in  the  Inca  empire  many  different  tribes  speaking 
different  languages,  all  have  now  been  fused  into  two, 
the  Quichuas  to  the  north  of  Lake  Titicaca,  and  the 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  461 


Aymaras,  both  around  its  shores  and  to  the  south  of 
it  in  Bolivia.  Having  given  some  account  of  both 
races  in  earlier  chapters,1  I need  only  add  that  the  two 
languages  are  generally  spoken  all  over  the  central 
Andes  from  the  frontiers  of  Ecuador  on  the  north  to 
those  of  Chile  and  Argentina  on  the  south.  Compara- 
tively few  of  these  Indians,  probably  less  than  a fifth, 
are  able  to  talk  Spanish.  Some  few  live  in  the  towns  and 
practise  handicrafts.  Three-fourths  of  the  population 
of  La  Paz  is  Aymard,  while  in  Cuzco  at  least  one- 
third  is  Quichua.  The  vast  majority,  however,  are 
country  folk  cultivating  the  soil  as  tenants  or  labour- 
ers or  tending  sheep  and  cattle  as  herdsmen  for  the 
landowners,  who  are,  of  course,  either  of  Spanish  or 
of  mixed  blood.  Comparatively  few  Indians  own  small 
plots  of  their  own.  The  landlords,  who  in  the  colonial 
times  oppressed  the  peasants  so  atrociously  as  from 
time  to  time  to  provoke  even  this  naturally  sub- 
missive people  to  rebellion,  no  longer  venture  to  prac- 
tise the  exactions  and  cruelties  of  those  days.  Author- 
ity is  not  feared  as  it  was  then,  and  could  not  be  used  to 
support  such  flagrant  injustice.  Neither  do  the  clergy 
wring  money  from  their  flocks,  as  in  those  old  bad  days, 
though  even  now  the  fees  charged  for  marriages  are  so 
high  that  the  rite  is  commonly  neglected.  The  ancient 
tribal  system  has  melted  away  and  th?  cacique , as  the 
Spaniards  called  him,  who  was  the  head  of  a local  com- 
munity down  till  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century,  is 
now  gone,  but  the  old  organization  of  the  dwellers  in  a 
1 Chapters  III-V. 


462 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


village  by  brotherhoods,  and  resting,  or  supposed  to  rest, 
upon  blood  relationship,  still  exists,  and  local  affairs  are 
managed  by  the  local  officials  mentioned  in  an  earlier 
chapter.1  Thus,  the  Indian  is  left  very  much  to 
himself,  except  that  he  pays  rent  to  the  landlord  and 
is  often  bound  to  render  him  personal  service  at  his 
residence  during  part  of  the  year.  This  is  called 
the  Mita.  His  food  is  not  very  nutritious,  consisting 
largely  of  chuno,  i.e.  frozen  potatoes,  usually  ground 
into  flour.  His  clothing  is  scanty,  his  mode  of  life  hard 
and  wretched,  especially  on  the  bleak  plateaux.  Yet 
he  is  not  in  that  abject  poverty  which  fears  starva- 
tion; perhaps,  indeed,  not  so  near  the  minimum  level  of 
subsistence  as  are  millions  of  the  people  in  China  and 
India.  He  does  not  contrast  his  own  evil  case  with 
the  luxury  of  the  rich,  as  do  the  slum  dwellers  of  Euro- 
pean cities,  nor  does  he  feel  his  case  to  be  evil,  for  it 
is  no  worse  than  his  forefathers  have  borne  for  ten  gen- 
erations, and  he  knows  no  other. 

Not  only  the  Quichuas  and  Aymaras,  but  the  In- 
dians of  the  northern  republics  and  of  southern  Chile  are 
quite  illiterate,  and,  as  respects  education,  just  where 
they  were  under  the  Incas,  perhaps  rather  farther 
back,  because  there  was  then  a sort  of  national  life 
which  has  been  long  since  quenched.  There  seems  to  be 
among  them  little  or  no  desire  for  instruction.  Even 
should  any  seek  to  rise  in  life,  he  would  find  no  means  of 
doing  so,  unless  perchance  some  kindly  priest  should 
give  the  rudiments  of  knowledge  to  a boy  brighter 
1 See  Chapter  V,  p.  180. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  463 


than  the  rest.  Religion  does  nothing  to  stir  their  minds. 
They  are  nominally  Christians,  but  of  many  of  them  that 
may  be  said  to-day  which  was  said  in  1746  by  the  hu- 
mane and  orthodox  Spaniards,  Antonio  de  Ulloa  and 
Jorge  Juan,  whose  secret  report  upon  things  in  South 
America,  and  among  others  upon  the  condition  of  the 
Indians  in  Peru  and  Ecuador,  made  to  the  king  of 
Spain,  was  published  in  England  eighty  years  later. 
They  say : — 

“ The  religion  of  the  Indians  is  no  more  like  the 
Christian  religion  than  it  is  to  that  which  they  had 
while  they  were  pagans,  for  if  the  matter  be  well  ex- 
amined it  will  be  found  that  notwithstanding  the  nom- 
inal conversion  of  these  tribes,  so  small  is  the  progress 
they  have  made  in  knowledge  that  it  will  be  hard  to  dis- 
cover any  difference  between  the  state  in  which  they 
now  find  themselves,  and  that  in  which  they  were  at 
the  time  of  the  Conquest.” 1 

That  the  influence  of  the  priesthood  did  not  commend 
religion  to  the  people  nor  relieve  their  misery  may  be 
gathered  from  this  further  extract  from  the  same  secret 
report:  — 

“ The  miserable  state  of  the  Indians  is  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  vices  of  the  parish  priests  ( curas ),  the  extortions 

1 Noticias  Secretas  de  America,  p.  353.  This  remarkable  book, 
published  by  David  Barry  in  1826,  quarto  (Taylor,  London),  from 
a manuscript  which  he  obtained  in  Madrid,  gives  a frightful  de- 
scription of  the  cruelties  and  oppressions  practised  on  the  Indians. 
It  does  not,  however,  seem  to  have  led  to  any  efforts  at  reform. 
It  is  accepted  as  authentic  by  good  authorities.  I owe  the  reference 
to  the  book  of  Professor  Bernard  Moses,  South  America  on  the  Eve 
of  Emancipation,  The  Southern  Colonies. 


464 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


of  the  corregidores,  and  the  bad  treatment  which  they 
generally  receive  from  all  Spaniards.  Unable  to  endure 
their  sufferings,  and  longing  to  escape  from  slavery, 
many  of  them  have  risen  up  and  moved  off  to  uncon- 
quered districts,  there  to  continue  in  the  barbarous 
practices  of  heathenism.  ...  In  the  community  of 
Pimampiro  in  the  province  of  Quito,  which  consisted 
of  more  than  5000  Indians,  and  was  prosperous,  the 
conduct  of  the  parish  priest  drove  the  Indians  to  de- 
spair. Uniting  in  one  body,  they  rose  in  rebellion  and 
in  one  night  passed  to  the  Cordillera,  where  they  joined 
themselves  to  the  wild  heathen  Indians,  with  whom 
they  have  continued  until  now.”1 

It  ought  to  be  remembered  that  the  avarice  and  moral 
faults  charged  upon  the  clergy  in  these  reports,  as  well 
as  in  other  accounts  belonging  to  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury are  brought  against  the  parish  priests  rather  than 
the  religious  orders,  although  Ulloa  describes  the  level 
of  conduct  as  having  sadly  declined  among  these  also. 
To  some  of  the  orders,  most  of  all  to  the  Jesuits,  and  in  a 
less  degree  to  the  early  Dominicans,  much  credit  is  due 
for  their  efforts  not  only  to  spread  the  gospel,  often  at 
the  risk  of  their  lives,  but  also  to  secure  justice  for  the 
unfortunate  Indians.  The  great  Las  Casas  was  only 
the  most  conspicuous  among  many  admirable  Spanish 
churchmen  who  threw  their  hearts  into  this  campaign 
of  humanity,  though  they  seldom  prevailed  against  the 
hard-hearted  rapacity  of  the  land  owners  and  mine 
owners  who  wished  to  keep  the  Indians  in  serfdom  and 
1 Noticias  Secretas,  ut  supra,  p.  343. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  465 


did  not  care  how  many  perished  under  their  hands. 
These  worthy  ecclesiastics  sometimes  secured  good  ordi- 
nances from  the  Council  of  the  Indies  in  Spain,  but  the 
colonial  governors  found  that  the  path  of  least  resistance 
was  to  proclaim  the  ordinance  and  wink  at  its  neglect. 
On  many  a law  was  the  note  made,  “It  is  obeyed,  but 
not  executed”  (Se  obedece  pero  no  se  ejecuta).  In  Para- 
guay, where  the  population  was  almost  wholly  Indian,  the 
reign  of  the  Jesuits  was  generally  beneficent.  They  could 
not  do  much  for  the  education  of  the  mass  of  their  sub- 
jects, but  while  they  trained  some  few  of  the  promising 
youth,  they  impressed  habits  of  industry  and  good  conduct 
upon  the  rest.  Perhaps  it  is  to  the  excessive  inculca- 
tion of  obedience  that  the  blind  submissiveness  of  the 
later  Paraguayans  to  such  despots  as  Francia  and  Lopez 
may  be  partly  attributed.1 

The  oppressions,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  referred 
to  in  the  extracts  given  above,  have  long  since  ceased, 
but  their  consequences  remain  in  the  abject  state  of  the 
aborigines  and  their  ignorance  of  the  truths  and  pre- 
cepts of  Christianity.  As  a learned  student  of  Indian 
life  observes,  it  is  to  them  a kind  of  magic,  more  power- 
ful for  some  purposes  than  their  own  ancient  magic 
which  was  based  on  nature  worship.  “They  believe  in 
Dios  (God),”  says  Mr.  Bandelier,2  “but  believe  more 
in  Nuestra  Senora  de  la  Luz  (Our  Lady  of  the  Light) 

1 Half  the  population  of  Paraguay  perished  in  the  war  of  the 
younger  Lopez,  the  third  of  the  line  of  dictators  that  ruled  the 
country  from  1818  to  1870. 

2 Islands  of  Titicaca  and  Koati,  quoted  in  Chapter  IV. 

2h 


466 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


at  Copacavana.”  They  worship  evil  spirits  and  make 
offerings  to  the  mountain  Achachilas  and  to  the  Earth. 
Even  in  Mexico,  where  the  Indians  are,  as  a rule,  much 
more  subject  to  enlightening  influences,  I was  told  in 
1901  that  an  archbishop,  visiting  the  parishes  of  his  dio- 
cese not  long  before,  had  found  the  ancient  idols  hidden 
away  behind  the  altars  and  occasionally  brought  out  at 
night  to  receive  marks  of  reverence.  The  Peruvians 
had  at  the  conquest  hardly  advanced  to  the  stage  of  a 
regular  mythology  with  images  of  the  deities,  so  idols 
were  less  common  and  prominent,  while  the  worship 
of  the  spirits  immanent  in  natural  objects  was  uni- 
versal. 

Where  the  church  fails  to  stir  the  currents  of  intellec- 
tual life  among  the  masses  of  such  a people  as  this, 
what  other  influence  is  there  to  make  for  progress  ? 

These  Peruvian  races  were  specially  unfortunate  be- 
cause their  natural  leaders,  the  caciques  or  local  chief- 
tains who  had  formed  a sort  of  aristocracy  before  the 
Conquest,  were  either  slaughtered  or,  in  some  few  cases, 
incorporated  into  the  colonial  upper  class,  so  that  they 
were  lost,  as  protectors,  to  the  subject  class,  who,  hav- 
ing little  force  of  character,  sank  unresistingly  into  serf- 
dom. Once,  in  1781-1783,  under  the  leadership  of  Tu- 
pac Amaru,  of  whom  I have  spoken  briefly  in  an  earlier 
chapter,  they  rose  in  a revolt  which  lasted  for  three 
years.  Being  unwarlike  and  untrained,  ill-armed  and 
ill-led,  they  were  defeated  with  great  slaughter,  after 
atrocious  cruelties  had  been  perpetrated  on  both  sides. 
But  they  accomplished  one  feat  rare  in  the  annals  of 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  467 


war  in  destroying,  along  with  its  Spanish  garrison,  the 
city  of  Sorata,  which  they  had  long  besieged  in  vain, 
by  damming  up  the  course  of  a mountain  torrent  and 
turning  its  full  stream  on  the  place.  Since  those  days, 
even  the  few  chiefs  that  then  remained  have  vanished, 
and  the  aboriginal  race  consists  wholly  of  the  poorest 
and  most  neglected  part  of  the  population.  That  which 
to  them  makes  life  tolerable  is  the  incessant  chewing  of 
coca,  a very  old  habit,  but  now  less  costly  than  in  Inca 
days,  because  the  leaf  can  be  more  easily  imported  from 
the  hot  country  east  of  the  Andes. 

Their  enjoyments  are  two.  One  is  intoxication,  mostly 
with  chicha,  the  old  native  beverage,  but  now  also  with 
fiery  alcohol,  made  from  the  sugar-cane.  The  other  is 
dancing  at  their  festivals.  The  priests,  when  they  were 
converting  the  natives,  thought  it  better  not  to  disturb 
the  ancient  heathen  dances,  but  to  transfer  them  to 
the  days  which  the  church  sets  apart  for  its  feasts,  ex- 
punging, so  far  as  they  could,  the  more  offensive  fea- 
tures of  the  dance,  though  what  remains  is  sufficiently 
repulsive.  Such  ceremonial  performances  are  common 
among  the  Indians  of  North  America,  also,  and  used 
often  to  be  kept  up  for  days  together  before  a declara- 
tion of  war.  The  dances  of  the  Hopi  and  other  Indians 
which  the  visitor  sees  to-day  in  Arizona  are  dull  and 
decorous  affairs.  A striking  description  of  the  dances 
which  he  saw  at  Tiahuanaco  on  Corpus  Christi  Day  is 
given  by  Mr.  Squier,1  and  the  much  more  recent  account 
given  by  Mr.  Bandelier  of  those  he  witnessed  on  another 
1 Travels  in  Peru,  p.  305  sqq. 


468 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


festival  at  Copacavana  shew  that  things  are  much  the 
same  to-day.1  The  music,  of  a drum-and-fife  type,  is 
loud,  harsh,  and  discordant,  but  this  does  not  imply 
that  a taste  for  sweet  sound  is  wanting,  for  the  Indian 
often  carries  his  simple  flute  or  pipe  with  hijn  on  his 
journeys  and  enjoys  the  monotonous  ditties  which  he 
makes  it  discourse. 

Three  other  facts  may  be  adduced  to  illustrate  the 
condition  of  the  aborigines.  There  is  no  recent  litera- 
ture in  their  languages,  not  even  a newspaper  or  maga- 
zine. They  seem  to  be  very  rarely  ordained  as  priests, 
though  I was  told  in  Mexico  that  there  are  a good 
many  Indian  priests  there ; and  it  seldom  happens  that 
any  Indian  rises  into  the  learned  or  even  into  the  edu- 
cated class.  I heard  of  one  such  at  Lima,  who  had  a 
remarkable  knowledge  of  natural  history;  there  may 
have  been  others. 

Whether  owing  to  the  character  of  the  Indians,  or  to 
their  fear  of  the  white  man,  robberies  and  assaults  are 
rare  not  only  among  the  more  gentle  Quichuas,  but 
also  in  Bolivia,  where  the  Aymar&s,  a more  dour  and 
sullen  race,  frequently  break  the  peace  among  them- 
selves, village  attacking  village  with  sticks  and  slings, 
while  the  women  carry  bags  of  stones  to  supply  ammu- 
nition for  the  men’s  slings.  In  fact,  the  safety  of  the 
solitary  European  traveller  in  most  parts  of  South  Amer- 

1 Islands  of  Titicaca  and  Koati,  p.  40  sqq.  This  learned  stu- 
dent of  Indian  customs  thinks  that  the  drinking  may  have  orig- 
inated in  the  ceremonial  offerings  of  chicha  to  the  spirits.  Its 
continuance  needs  no  explanation. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  469 

ica  is  almost  as  remarkable  as  the  like  circumstance  in 
India. 

In  respect  of  civil  rights,  there  is  no  legal  distinction 
between  the  Indian  and  the  white.  Both  enjoy  the  same 
citizenship  for  all  private  and  public  purposes,  to  both 
is  granted  the  equal  protection  of  the  laws,  equal  suf- 
frage, equal  eligibility  to  office.  This  is  to  some  extent 
a guarantee  to  the  Indian  against  ill  treatment,  but  it 
does  not  raise  him  in  the  social  scale.  He  seldom  casts 
a vote ; not,  indeed,  that  it  makes  much  difference  in 
these  countries  whether  the  citizen  votes  or  not,  for  a 
paternal  government  takes  charge  of  the  elections.  He 
is  never  — so  far  as  I could  learn  — a candidate  for  any 
national  office.  The  laws  of  the  two  republics  interfere 
very  little  with  his  life,  which  is  regulated  by  ancestral 
custom.  Even  in  revolutions  he  does  not  seem  to  come 
to  the  front.  He  is,  however,  willing  to  fight,  and  a 
good  fighter  both  in  foreign  and  in  civil  wars,  however 
little  interest  he  may  take  in  the  cause.  But  for  this 
fact  there  would  have  been  fewer  and  shorter  revolu- 
tions. Thus  the  Indian  is  a member  of  the  nation  for 
military,  if  not  for  political,  purposes.  The  former  are 
at  least  nearer  to  his  comprehension  than  the  latter, 
for  he  cares,  and  thinks  of  caring,  about  politics  no  more 
than  did  the  needy  knife-grinder  in  Canning’s  verses. 
No  one  has  yet  preached  to  him  the  gospel  of  democ- 
racy ; no  one  has  told  him  that  he  has  anything  to 
gain  from  action  as  a citizen.  The  whole  thing  is  as  com- 
pletely out  of  his  sphere  as  if  he  were  still  living  under 
the  Spanish  viceroys,  or,  indeed,  under  the  rule  of  the 


470 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Inca  Huayna  Capac.  There  is,  therefore,  not  yet  any 
“Indian  question”  in  South  America.1  There  ought 
to  be  an  Indian  question  : that  is  to  say,  there  ought  to 
be  an  effort  to  raise  the  Indians  economically  and  edu- 
cationally. But  they  have  not  yet  begun  to  ask  to  be 
raised. 

So  much  for  the  Indian  as  he  is  in  Peru  and  Bolivia ; 
and,  apparently,  also  in  those  settled  parts  of  north- 
western Argentina  where  Indians  still  remain.  In  Par- 
aguay the  position  is  so  far  different  that  the  Indians 
form  not  the  lowest  class,  but  the  bulk  of  the  nation. 
In  the  forest-covered  regions  of  the  Amazon  and  its 
tributaries,  the  Indios  bravos  are  outside  civilization 
altogether. 

To  understand  the  social  relations  of  the  white  and 
Indian  races  one  must  begin  by  remembering  that  there 
is  in  Spanish  and  Portuguese  countries  no  such  sharp 
colour  line  as  exists  where  men  of  Teutonic  stock  are 
settled  in  countries  outside  Europe.  As  this  is  true 
of  the  negro,  it  is  even  more  true  of  the  Indian.  He 
may  be  despised  as  a weakling,  he  may  be  ignored  as 
a citizen,  he  may  be,  as  he  was  at  one  time,  abomi- 
nably oppressed  and  ill  treated,  but  he  excites  no  per- 
sonal repulsion.  It  is  not  his  race  that  is  against  him, 
but  his  debased  condition.  Whatever  he  suffers,  is 
suffered  because  he  is  ignorant  or  timid  or  helpless,  not 
because  he  is  of  a different  blood  and  colour.  Accord- 

1 There  has  been  formed  in  Lima  a society  for  the  protection  of 
the  Indians,  but  I could  not  learn  that  it  has  been  able  to  do  much 
in  the  parts  of  Peru  that  lie  far  from  the  capital. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  471 


ingly  the  Spanish  Americans  do  not  strive  to  keep  off 
and  keep  down  the  Indian  in  such  wise  as  the  North 
Americans  and  the  Dutch  and  the  English  — I do  not 
mean  the  governments,  but  the  individuals  — treat  their 
black  subjects.  There  is  not  even  such  aversion  to 
him  as  is  shewn  in  California  and  in  Australia  to 
the  Chinese,  Japanese,  and  Hindus.  The  distinction 
between  the  races  is  in  Spanish  America  a distinction 
of  rank  or  class  rather  than  of  colour.  Against  inter- 
marriage there  is,  therefore,  no  more  feeling  than  that 
which  exists  against  any  union  palpably  below  a man’s 
or  woman’s  own  rank  in  life.  If  it  is  rare  for  a pure 
white  to  espouse  a pure  Indian,  that  is  because  they 
are  of  different  ranks,  just  as  it  is  rare  for  a well-born 
Englishman  to  marry  a peasant  girl.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  law  to  oppose  such  a union,  and  though  whites 
seldom  marry  pure  Indians,  because  the  classes  come 
little  into  contact,  the  presence  of  an  unmistakable  In- 
dian strain  in  a suitor  makes  no  difference  to  his 
acceptability  to  a white  woman  of  the  same  rank 
Whether  this  contrast  between  the  Spanish  attitude 
towards  the  Indian  and  the  Anglo-American  attitude 
to  the  negro  is  due  to  differences  between  Roman 
Catholicism  and  Protestantism,1  or  to  the  fact  that  the 

1 The  sense  of  membership  in  a concrete  community  (a  Visible 
Church)  consisting  of  persons  of  whatever  race  who  participate 
in  the  same  sacraments  is  stronger  in  the  Roman  than  in  the 
Protestant  churches  ; and  as  a member  of  a lower  race  who  has 
been  ordained  a priest  is  thereby  raised  to  a position  which  is  in 
a sense  above  that  of  any  layman,  the  race  itself  is  raised  in  his 
person. 


472 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Indian  was  never  legally  a slave,  or  to  the  fact  that  the 
aboriginal  American  races  shew  a less  marked  diver- 
gence in  colour  and  features  from  the  white  than  does 
the  negro,  is  a question  which  need  not  be  here  dis- 
cussed. Possibly  all  three  causes  may  contribute  to 
the  result ; and  probably  the  circumstance  that  most 
of  the  early  Spaniards,  having  brought  no  wives  with 
them,  treated  their  numerous  children  by  Indian  women 
as  being  legitimate  and  belonging  to  their  own  race, 
was  also  a factor.  Such  a usage,  established  in  the 
days  of  the  Conquest,  would  naturally  continue  to  affect 
men’s  attitude.  The  result  is  anyhow  one  of  great 
significance,  and  makes  the  racial  problem  here  quite 
different  from  what  it  is  in  the  southern  states  of  North 
America. 

The  most  salient  point  of  difference  lies  in  the  posi- 
tion of  the  half-breed  or  mestizo.  In  North  America 
a mulatto,  a quadroon,  even  an  octoroon  who  is  only 
one-eighth  black,  counts  as  a negro.  Here,  except  per- 
haps in  a few  of  the  oldest  cities,  a mestizo  counts  as  a 
white.  His  half-Indian  blood  is  no  disparagement  to 
his  social  standing,  no  obstacle  to  his  reaching  any 
public  position.  One  may  remark  of  such  and  such  a 
person  that  he  has  evidently  a strong  infusion  of  Indian 
blood,  of  such  another  that  he  looks  a Spaniard  through 
and  through,  and  the  latter  doubtless  cherishes  a secret 
satisfaction  in  his  pure  Iberian  stock.  But  for  the 
practical  purposes  of  business  and  politics,  the  two,  sup- 
posing them  to  belong  to  the  same  educated  class,  stand 
upon  the  same  level.  The  families  which  value  their 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  473 


lineage  so  highly  that  they  would  deem  the  marriage  of 
a child  to  a person  of  mixed  blood,  otherwise  desir- 
able, to  be  a mesalliance,  must  be  now  few,  and  hardly 
exist  outside  five  or  six  cities  — such  as  Bogota,  Lima, 
Arequipa,  and  Santiago. 

Thus  one  may  say  that  there  is  no  “colour  ques- 
tion” in  South  America.  Its  republics  have  political 
and  economic  problems  enough,  but  they  are  spared  a 
source  of  embarrassment  and  danger  constantly  present 
to  the  minds  of  thoughtful  North  Americans,  and  present 
also  (though  less  painfully)  to  the  minds  of  South  Afri- 
cans. Although,  therefore,  both  in  Spanish  America 
and  in  the  United  States  there  are  social  distinctions 
which  coincide  with  race  distinctions,  the  character  of 
those  distinctions  is  different.  In  both  countries  there 
are  two  sections.  But  in  the  United  States  everyone 
who  is  not  white  is  classed  as  coloured,  however  slight 
the  trace.  In  Spanish  America  everyone  who  is  not 
wholly  Indian  is  classed  as  white,  however  marked  the 
Indian  tinge.1  Thus  the  mixed  population,  which  in 
the  United  States  swells  the  negro  element,  is  in  Span- 
ish America  a part  of  the  white  nation,  and  helps  to 
give  that  element  its  preponderance.  And  a further 
difference  appears  in  the  fact  that  whereas  in  the 
United  States  the  man  of  colour  is  discriminated  against 
for  social  purposes,  irrespective  of  his  wealth,  educa- 


1 An  infusion  of  negro  blood,  sometimes  met  with  in  the  coast 
towns  of  Peru,  is  regarded  with  less  favour  than  a like  infusion  of 
Indian  blood,  for  while  the  first  negro  ancestor  must  have  been  a 
slave,  the  Indian  ancestor  may  have  been  an  Inca. 


474 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


tion,  or  personal  qualities,  in  Spanish  countries  race 
counts  for  so  little  that  when  he  emerges  out  of  the 
poverty  and  ignorance  which  mark  the  Indian,  his  equal- 
ity with  the  white  man  is  admitted.  So  rarely,  however, 
does  he  emerge  that  one  may  broadly  say  that  the  Na- 
tion consists  in  these  republics  of  white  men  and  mesti- 
zos only,  the  Indian  constituting,  if  not  another  nation, 
yet  a separate  nationality,  marked  off  not  merely  by 
poverty,  but  by  its  language  and  the  adherence  of  its 
members  to  ancient  superstitions.  They  have  nothing, 
except  the  worship  of  the  saints  and  a fondness  for 
liquor,  in  common  with  the  class  above  them,  for  they 
speak  a different  language,  think  differently,  feel  differ- 
ently, have  their  own  amusements,  and  cherish,  in  a dim 
way,  faint  memories  of  a time  when  their  forefathers 
were  masters  of  the  land.  They  are  not  actively  hostile 
to  the  white  people,  and,  indeed,  get  on  better  with 
their  landlords  than  some  European  peasantries  have 
done  with  theirs.  But  they  live  apart,  inside  the  nation, 
but  not  of  it.  The  Aymaras  are  silent,  suspicious,  sul- 
len. The  Quichuas  are  more  kindly,  but  hardly  less 
reserved.  This  reserve  and  suspicion  characterize  the 
Mexican  Indian  also,  who  is  generally  more  intelligent 
than  the  Peruvian.1  Both  Aymaras  and  Quichuas  are 
tenacious  of  their  customs,  and  do  not  seek  to  assimi- 


1 A few  years  ago  in  northern  Mexico  a truck  carrying  a load  of 
dynamite  for  use  at  a mine  was  suddenly  discovered  to  be  on  fire 
at  a village  station.  The  risk  was  imminent,  so  the  driver  of  a 
locomotive  engine  picked  the  truck  up  and  ran  it  away  into  the 
country  at  all  the  speed  he  could  put  on.  He  bade  the  brakeman 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  475 


late  any  of  that  modern  life  and  lore  which  has  found 
its  slow  way  even  into  the  recesses  of  the  Andes.  No 
one  from  without  tries  to  give  it  to  them,  no  one  rises 
from  among  themselves  stirred  by  a desire  to  acquire 
it  and  then  impart  it  to  his  fellows. 

This  want  of  leading,  and  want  not  only  of  light  but  of 
a wish  for  light,  is  the  feature  of  the  Indian  population 
which  most  surprises  the  traveller,  because  he  knows  of 
no  parallel  to  it  among  the  subject  races  of  Europe  in  the 
past  or  those  of  western  Asia  to-day.  The  Greek  and 
Armenian  in  Turkey  have  at  times  suffered  as  much  from 
the  Turk  as  the  Quichua  has  suffered  from  his  conquerors 
in  Peru,  but  in  intelligence  and  capacity  for  progress 
they  have  been  the  superiors  of  the  Turk ; and  had 
there  been  more  of  them,  they  would  before  now  have 
shaken  off  his  control. 

If  it  is  asked  how  the  presence  of  this  solid  Indian 
mass,  unassimilated  by  the  white  nation,  has  affected 
that  nation  and  the  progress  of  the  country  as  a whole, 
the  answer  is  that  in  the  first  place  it  prevented  all 
chance  of  the  growth  of  a free  European  agricultural 
population,  even  in  those  high  valleys  where  Europeans 
could  work  and  thrive.  Had  the  hardy  and  laborious 
peasantry  of  Galicia,  Asturias,  and  Aragon  settled  in 
these  regions,  how  much  more  robust,  mentally  and 
physically,  might  the  nation  have  been!  How  much 

jump  off  and  save  himself,  adding,  “I  go  to  my  death.”  When 
he  had  got  a mile  away,  the  dynamite  exploded.  Every  window 
in  the  village  was  broken,  and  he  was  blown  to  atoms,  but  the  in- 
habitants were  saved.  He  was  a pure-blooded  Indian. 


476 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


might  agriculture  have  been  improved  had  there  been 
intelligent  labour!  But  besides  this  want,  and  besides 
the  weakening  of  the  state  by  the  lack  of  national  spirit 
in  half  of  its  population,  the  presence  of  a large  mass 
of  ignorance  and  superstition  has  operated  to  reduce 
the  general  intellectual  level.  There  have  been  coun- 
tries where  a small  rich  and  ruling  class,  living  on  the 
toil  of  inferiors,  has  cultivated  art  and  letters  with 
brilliant  success,  but  we  find  nothing  of  the  sort  here. 
The  ignorant  mass  has  depressed  the  whole,  as  a glacier 
chills  the  air  of  its  valley. 

Whether  the  Spanish  stock  has  deteriorated  through 
the  mixture  of  Indian  blood  is  a more  difficult  mat- 
ter to  determine.  The  Peruvians  and  Bolivians 
of  to-day,  both  whites  and  mestizos  — and  the  same 
thing  is  true  of  Venezuelans  and  Ecuadoreans  — dif- 
fer much  from  the  Spaniards  of  the  sixteenth  century 
and  from  the  European  Spaniards  of  to-day.  They 
are  probably  more  excitable;  they  are  naturally  less 
industrious  because  they  live  in  hot  countries  and  have 
Indians  to  work  for  them.  But  in  Spain  itself  there 
are  great  differences  between  the  peoples  of  the  north 
and  the  south  and  the  east.  The  Catalans  are  more 
energetic  than  the  Andalusians,  the  Gallegos  more  in- 
dustrious than  the  Valencians.  The  conditions  of  colo- 
nial life  in  the  presence  of  a large  aboriginal  population, 
coupled  with  long  misgovernment  and  intellectual  stag- 
nation, account  for  a good  deal  of  the  variation  from 
the  Spanish  type.  It  is  a sound  maxim  never  to  lay 
weight  upon  uncertain  causes  when  certain  causes  are 


.RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  477 


available  as  explanations.  Moreover  our  knowledge  of 
heredity  in  its  influence  on  race  development  is  still 
imperfect.  The  Argentines,  who  are  of  an  almost  pure 
white  stock,  also  differ  much  from  the  modern  Spaniard. 

It  might  seem  natural  to  assume  a priori  that  men  of 
pure  European  race  would  continue  to  hold  the  foremost 
place  in  these  countries,  and  would  shewr  both  greater 
talents  and  a more  humane  temper  than  those  in  whose 
veins  Indian  blood  flows.  But  I doubt  if  the  facts  sup- 
port such  a view.  Some  of  the  most  forceful  leaders 
who  have  figured  in  the  politics  of  these  republics  have 
been  mestizos.  I remember  one,  as  capable  and  energetic 
and  upright  a man  as  I met  anywhere  in  the  continent, 
who  looked  at  least  half  an  Indian,  and  very  little  of  a 
Spaniard.  Nor  have  there  been  any  more  sinister  fig- 
ures in  the  history  of  South  America  since  the  days  of 
Pedro  de  Arias  the  infamous  governor  of  Darien  who 
put  to  death  Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa,  than  some  who 
were  pure  Spaniards.  No  half-breeds  have  shewn  more 
ruthlessness  than  the  Spanish  Carbajal  in  the  days  of 
Pizarro,  or  than  Rosas,  the  Argentine  dictator  of  seventy 
years  ago.  And  in  this  connection  it  deserves  to  be 
noticed  that  the  ancient  Peruvian  Indians,  though  they 
thought  nothing  of  indiscriminate  slaughter  and  occa- 
sionally tortured  captive  enemies,  did  not  generally 
shew  the  same  taste  for  blood  as  the  Aztecs  shewed  in 
their  sacrifices  nor  the  same  propensity  to  methods  of 
elaborate  and  long-drawn-out  cruelty  as  did  the  Red 
men  of  North  America. 

As  I have  so  far  been  speaking  chiefly  of  Peru 


478 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


and  Bolivia,  where  the  Indian  population  is  larger  and 
more  civilized  than  elsewhere,  a few  observations 
ought  to  be  added  regarding  the  other  republics  in 
which  a considerable  aboriginal  population  remains. 
I omit  Uruguay,  because  it  has  none  at  all.  'In  Argen- 
tina there  are  some  civilized  Indians  in  the  north- 
western districts  round  the  cities  of  Jujuy  and  Tucuman, 
and  to  these  the  remarks  made  regarding  their  neigh- 
bours, the  Bolivian  Indians,  apply.  There  are  also 
wild  Indians,  perhaps  one  hundred  thousand,  perhaps 
more,  on  the  Gran  Chaco  of  the  far  north,1  and  the 
scattered  remnants  of  nomad  Patagonians  in  the  far 
south  and  in  Tierra  del  Fuego.  These  seem  to  be  dis- 
appearing. The  Onas  in  that  island  have  been  freely 
killed  off  by  the  ranchmen  on  whose  flocks  they  preyed, 
and  tubercular  disease  is  destroying  the  rest.  In  Chile, 
besides  the  Araucanians,  described  in  Chapter  VI,  there 
are  a few  small  tribes,  in  a low  state  of  barbarism,  left 
in  the  archipelago  of  wet  and  woody  isles  along  the 
Pacific  coast.  The  rural  population  of  the  republic  — 
indeed,  nearly  all  of  the  poorer  and  less  educated  part  of 
it  — is  mestizo,  a bold  and  vigorous  race,  good  workers 
and  fine  fighters.  Paraguay  is  an  almost  purely  Indian 
country. 

Of  the  four  northern  republics,  Panama,  Colombia, 
Venezuela,  and  Ecuador,  I have  seen  only  the  first. 
In  each  of  these  the  number  of  purely  Spanish  families 
is  small.  It  is  probably  largest  in  Colombia.  In  Vene- 
zuela the  Indians  have  been  more  largely  absorbed  into 

1 Some  of  these  now  come  south  to  work  on  Argentine  farms. 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  479 


the  general  population  than  has  happened  in  Colom- 
bia and  Ecuador.  In  all  four  states  such  of  the  In- 
dians as  remain  wild  forest  dwellers  are  passive,  and 
practically  outside  the  nation,  which  is,  as  a social  and 
political  entity,  predominantly  mestizo.  What  has  been 
said  of  Peru  and  Bolivia  is  true  of  these  states  also : 
there  is  no  colour  line ; the  mestizos  are  treated  as  white 
and  are  not,  as  a class,  intellectually  inferior  to  the 
white.  The  Indian  forms  the  lowest  stratum,  and  sel- 
dom rises  out  of  it. 

There  remains  Brazil,  distinguished  from  the  other  re- 
publics by  the  fact  that  in  addition  to  her  small  mestizo 
population  and  her  pure  Indian  population,  most  of 
it  wild,  she  has  a great  mass  of  negroes  and  a still 
larger  mass  of  mulattoes  and  quadroons.  It  is  hardly 
too  much  to  say  that  along  the  coast  from  Rio  to 
Bahia  and  Pernambuco,  as  well  as  in  parts  of  the 
interior  behind  these  two  cities,  the  black  popu- 
lation predominates.  In  character  and  habits  it 
somewhat  resembles  the  negroes  of  the  British  West 
Indies  and  Santo  Domingo,  being  superior  to  the  Hay- 
tians,  but  inferior  in  education  and  enterprise  to  the 
coloured  people  of  the  southern  states  of  North  America. 
High  as  is  its  fecundity,  its  death-rate  is  also  so  high, 
owing  to  the  general  neglect  of  sanitary  precautions, 
that  it  does  not  appear  to  be  increasing  relatively  to 
the  general  population.  It  is  well  treated  — slavery 
was  seldom  harsh  among  the  kindly  natured,  easy-going 
Portuguese  — and  bears  no  ill-will  to  its  former  masters. 
Neither  do  they  feel  towards  it  that  repulsion  which 


480 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


marks  the  attitude  of  the  whites  to  the  negroes  in  North 
America  and  South  Africa.  The  Brazilian  lower  class 
intermarries  freely  with  the  black  people  ; the  Brazilian 
middle  class  intermarries  with  mulattoes  and  quadroons. 
Brazil  is  the  one  country  in  the  world,  besides'' the  Por- 
tuguese colonies  on  the  east  and  west  coasts  of  Africa, 
in  which  a fusion  of  the  European  and  African  races  is 
proceeding  unchecked  by  law  or  custom.  The  doctrines 
of  human  equality  and  human  solidarity  have  here 
their  perfect  work.  The  result  is  so  far  satisfactory 
that  there  is  little  or  no  class  friction.  The  white  man 
does  not  lynch  or  maltreat  the  negro : indeed,  I have 
never  heard  of  a lynching  anywhere  in  South  America 
except  occasionally  as  part  of  a political  convulsion. 
The  negro  is  not  accused  of  insolence  and  does  not 
seem  to  develop  any  more  criminality  than  naturally 
belongs  to  any  ignorant  population  with  loose  notions 
of  morality  and  property. 

What  ultimate  effect  the  intermixture  of  blood  will 
have  on  the  European  element  in  Brazil  I will  not 
venture  to  predict.  If  one  may  judge  from  a few 
remarkable  cases,  it  will  not  necessarily  reduce  the 
intellectual  standard.  One  of  the  ablest  and  most 
refined  Brazilians  I have  known  had  some  colour;  and 
other  such  cases  have  been  mentioned  to  me.  Assump- 
tions and  preconceptions  must  be  eschewed,  however 
plausible  they  may  seem. 

The  chief  conclusions  which  the  history  of  the  rela- 
tions of  races  in  the  South  American  continent  suggests 
are  the  three  following.  The  first  may  be  thought 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  481 


doubtful.  It  is  negative  rather  than  positive,  and 
though  it  seems  worth  stating,  I state  it  with  diffi- 
dence. 

The  fusion  of  two  parent  stocks,  one  more  advanced, 
the  other  more  backward,  does  not  necessarily  result  in 
producing  a race  inferior  to  the  stronger  parent  or  supe- 
rior to  the  weaker.  The  mestizo  in  Peru  is  not  palpa- 
bly inferior  in  intellect  to  the  Spanish  colonial  of  un- 
mixed blood,  but  seems  to  be  substantially  his  equal. 
The  mestizo  in  Mexico  is  not  palpably  superior  — some 
doubt  if  he  is  at  all  superior  either  physically,  morally, 
or  intellectually  — to  the  pure  Tarascan  or  Zapotec  In- 
dian, who  is,  no  doubt,  a stronger  human  being  than 
the  South  American  Quichua  or  Aymara. 

The  second  conclusion  is  this : Conquest  and  con- 
trol by  a race  of  greater  strength  have  upon  some  races 
a depressing  and  almost  ruinous  effect.  The  Peruvian 
subjects  of  the  Incas  had  reached  a state  of  advance- 
ment which,  though  much  below  that  of  the  ancient 
Egyptians  and  Babylonians,  was  remarkable  when  one 
considers  that  their  isolation  deprived  them  of  the  enor- 
mous benefit  of  contact  with  other  progressive  peoples, 
and  when  one  considers  also  the  disadvantage  of  living 
at  a great  altitude,  the  absence  of  milk-yielding  ani- 
mals, and  the  paucity  both  of  animals  capable  of  domes- 
tication and  of  cereal  plants.  The  impact  of  Spanish 
invasion  not  only  shattered  their  own  rudimentary  civil- 
ization to  pieces,  but  so  took  all  the  heart  and  spirit,  out 
of  them  that  they  have  made  practically  no  advances 
during  four  centuries,  and  have  profited  hardly  at  all 
2 1 


482 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


by  the  western  civilization  of  their  masters.  The  ab- 
origines of  Mexico,  having  more  stamina  of  intellect 
and  will,  have  suffered  less  by  the  shock,  but  have 
done  almost  as  little  to  assimilate  the  arts  and  ideas  of 
Europe. 

Thirdly,  the  ease  with  which  the  Spaniards  have 
intermingled  by  marriage  with  the  Indian  tribes — and 
the  Portuguese  have  done  the  like,  not  only  with  the 
Indians,  but  with  the  more  physically  dissimilar  negroes 
— shews  that  race  repugnance  is  no  such  constant  and 
permanent  factor  in  human  affairs  as  members  of  the 
Teutonic  peoples  are  apt  to  assume.  Instead  of  being, 
as  we  Teutons  suppose,  the  rule  in  this  matter,  we  are 
rather  the  exception,  for  in  the  ancient  world  there 
seems  to  have  been  little  race  repulsion;  there  is 
very  little  to-day  among  Mohammedans;  there  is  none 
among  Chinese.  This  seems  to  suggest  that  since  the 
phenomenon  is  not  of  the  essence  of  human  nature,  it 
may  not  be  always  as  strong  among  the  Teutonic 
peoples  as  it  is  to-day.  Religion  has  been  in  the  past 
almost  as  powerful  a dissevering  force  as  has  racial 
antagonism.  In  the  case  of  Spaniards  and  Portuguese, 
religion,  so  soon  as  the  Indians  had  been  baptized,  made 
race  differences  seem  insignificant.  Islam  has  always 
done  this  in  the  East  and  in  Africa. 

As  touching  the  future,  it  seems  as  certain  as  any- 
thing in  human  affairs  can  be  that  the  races  now  in- 
habiting South  America,  aboriginal,  European,  and 
African,  will  be  all  ultimately  fused.  The  Spanish  re- 
publics (except  the  purely  white  Argentina  and  Uru- 


RELATIONS  OF  RACES  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA  483 


guay)  will  be  Ibero-American,  Brazil  will  be  Ibero- 
American-African.  All  present  facts  point  that  way, 
and  that  any  hitherto  unfelt  repulsion  will  arise  seems 
most  improbable.  When,  however,  will  the  process 
be  complete  ? In  the  Spanish  republics,  hardly  before 
two  centuries,  probably  not  even  then.  It  seems  not 
much  nearer  now  than  it  was  in  1810,  when  the  revolu- 
tionary struggles  began,  though  anything  which  stirred 
up  the  Andean  population,  such  as  the  discovery  of  a 
large  number  of  new  and  rich  mines,  bringing  in  foreign 
labour  and  increasing  the  demand  for  domestic  labour, 
or  anything  that  roused  a spirit  of  economic  and  politi- 
cal change,  might  accelerate  the  consummation. 

Still  less  predictable  is  the  quality  of  the  mixed  race 
that  will  emerge.  One  cannot  but  fear  that  the  Portu- 
guese of  tropical  Brazil  may  suffer  from  the  further 
infusion  of  an  element  the  moral  fibre  of  which  is  con- 
spicuously weak,  though  there  are  those  who  argue 
that  the  blood  of  the  superior  race  must  ultimately 
transmute  the  whole.  But  we  need  not  assume  that  the 
peoples  of  the  Spanish  republics  will  necessarily  decline, 
for  the  present  degradation  of  the  Indians  may  be  due  as 
much  to  their  melancholy  history  as  to  inherent  defects. 
It  is  still  too  soon  to  be  despondent.  There  may  be 
in  the  Indian  stock  a reserve  of  strength,  dormant, 
but  not  extinct,  ready  to  respond  to  a new  stimulus 
and  to  shoot  upwards  under  more  inspiriting  conditions. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS  AND  THE  RELATION  OP  SOUTH 
AMERICA  TO  EUROPE 

Alexander  Hamilton  bade  his  fellow  citizens  to 
think  continentally ; and  Herodotus,  in  the  short  intro- 
duction prefixed  to  his  history,  explains  its  theme  as 
being  an  account  of  the  relations  of  two  great  con- 
tinents, Europe  and  Asia,  and  of  the  reasons  which 
produced  such  recurring  strife  between  them.  Let  us 
attempt  to  think  a little  of  the  southern  part  of  the 
Western  world  as  a whole,  in  its  relations  as  a con- 
tinent to  the  other  continents,  and  especially  to  that 
continent  with  which  it  is  connected  by  a narrow 
neck  of  land,  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  which  has 
drawn  its  name  from  the  same  navigator.  The  series 
of  incidents  by  which  the  name  of  a Florentine  adven- 
turer was  given,  first,  to  a continent  he  probably  did  not 
discover,  and  then  to  another  which  he  never  saw,  is  as 
curious  as  anything  in  geographical  history. 

Everybody  knows  that  Christopher  Columbus  sailed 
out  into  the  west  in  search  of  new  lands,  expecting 
them  to  be  a part  of  Asia,  and  that  to  the  day  of  his 
death,  after  four  voyages,  he  believed  that  he  had  found 
India.1  In  the  last  of  those  voyages,  when  he  was 

1 Though  doubt  has  lately  been  thrown  upon  the  letter  of  Tosca- 
nelli  and  upon  the  received  belief  that  it  was  India  that  Columbus 
was  seeking,  he  clearly  believed  on  his  return  to  Spain  that  it  was 
India  he  had  found. 


484 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


4S5 


wearily  beating  up  along  the  coast  of  Darien  against 
the  currents,  he  fancied  himself  near  the  Straits  of 
Malacca.  It  is  natural,  therefore,  that  neither  he  nor  his 
first  successors  in  exploration  should  have  given  a name 
to  the  new  western  land  south  of  the  Caribbean  Sea,  even 
when,  some  while  later,  they  had  explored  enough  of  it  to 
recognize  it  for  a continent.  They  named  particular  re- 
gions, but  a general  name  was  not  needed  because  it 
was  expected  that  the  parts  seen  would  turn  out  to  be 
parts  of  Asia.  Then  in  1497  other  voyagers  who  sailed 
forth  to  explore  said  that  they  found  a new  land,  far 
off  in  the  ocean  to  the  southwest  of  the  Canary  Islands. 
Next  year  Columbus  discovered  on  the  south  side  of 
the  Caribbean  Sea  the  “Tierra  Firma,  ” which  we  call 
Venezuela.  Americus  Vespuccius  of  Florence,  one  of  the 
ship’s  company  of  the  1497  voyage,  wrote  letters,  giving 
an  account  of  this  (and  of  a later  voyage,  also)  to  the 
new  land  far  to  the  southwest,  in  which  he  described 
it  as  “a  New  World,  a New  Fourth  Part  of  the  Globe,” 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa  being  the  other  three.  The 
letters  made  a great  sensation;  and  one  of  them  was 
made  the  basis  of  a book  called  Cosmographies  In- 
troduction published  in  1507,  at  St.  Di6  in  France,  by  a 
certain  Waldseemuller  (Hylacomylus),  a professor  there, 
who  suggested  that  as  Americus  was  the  discoverer  of 
this  Fourth  Part  of  the  World,  it  should  be  called  after 
him.1  The  book  was  read  far  and  wide ; the  name  took. 

1 The  question  as  to  the  truth  of  Amerigo  Vespucci’s  account 
of  his  voyages,  and  especially  of  the  first  one  (1497)  in  which  he 
claimed  to  have  discovered  a new  land  1000  leagues  west  southwest 


486 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


It  was  not  intended  to  be  applied  to  the  lands  west  and 
south  of  the  Caribbean  Sea,  which  between  1497  and  1507 
had  been  discovered  by  Columbus  and  others  ; still  less 
to  the  lands  discovered  by  John  Cabot  in  the  far  north, 
but  to  an  entirely  different  piece  of  land  much  to  the 
south  and  east  of  what  Columbus  had  discovered. 
But  when  all  the  lands  bordering  on  that  part  of  the 
Atlantic  had  been  sufficiently  explored  and  the  records 
of  the  voyages  compared,  it  appeared  that  the  lands 
lying  in  the  part  of  the  ocean  to  which  the  descriptions 
of  Americus  referred,  were,  in  fact,  continuous  with  the 
coasts  of  the  Caribbean  and  Gulf  of  Mexico.  There- 
upon all  the  land  from  the  Rio  de  la  Plata  (discovered 
in  1516)  northward  to  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  came 
to  be  included  under  the  name  America,  just  because 
there  was  no  other  general  name  for  what  had  been,  at 
least  till  1513,  when  the  Pacific  was  discovered  by 
crossing  the  Isthmus  at  Darien,  still  believed  to  be  part 
of  Asia.  As  soon  as  the  Pacific  had  been  reached,  and 
still  more  when  the  ever  famous  voyage  of  Magellan  had 
shewn  that  Asia  lay  thousands  of  miles  further  away 
beyond  the  Pacific,  a general  name  began  to  be  wanted. 
Much  later,  and  again,  just  because  there  was  no  other 
competing  name,  the  term  America  was  extended  to 

of  the  Canary  Islands  is  still  the  subjectof  controversy  among  learned 
men,  but  the  prevalent  opinion  seems  to  be  that  the  account  is 
unworthy  of  credence.  The  letters  were  translated  into  Latin  and 
ran  through  several  editions. 

The  name  “Americus,  Amerigo  ” is  an  Italianized  form  of  Amalrich, 
a name  borne  by  some  of  the  Gothic  kings  mentioned  by  Jordanes, 
and  also  by  two  of  the  Latin  kings  of  Jerusalem  in  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. It  is  the  German  Emeric  and  the  French  Amaury. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


487 


include  everything  north  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  up 
to  the  Arctic  regions,  and  when  the  need  was  felt  for 
distinguishing  the  two  parts,  the  words  North  and 
South  were  added.  Although  applied  earlier  to  the 
southern  than  to  the  northern  continent,  the  name  when 
used  alone  now  denotes  to  most  Europeans  the  latter. 

How  much  simpler  and  better  it  would  have  been  if 
each  continent  had  received  a name  of  its  own.  South 
America  might  have  been  called  after  Columbus,  as 
the  first  man  who  saw  its  terra  firma,  and  North 
America  might  have  received  the  name  of  Cabotia  or 
Pinzonia  or  Ponceana,  whichever  navigator  may  be 
best  entitled  to  be  deemed  its  first  and  true  dis- 
coverer. How  much  trouble  would  have  been  saved 
and  how  many  mistakes  avoided  ! Italian  peasants 
would  not  have  fancied  that  a cousin  who  had  gone 
to  Buenos  Aires  was  the  near  neighbour  of  another  who 
had  gone  to  New  York.  Similarities  would  not  have 
been  imagined  where  differences  exist.  The  South 
Americans  would  not  have  resented  the  assumption  by 
the  people  of  the  United  States  of  the  name  to  which 
they  claim  an  equal  right,  and  the  people  of  the  United 
States  would  not  have  formed  the  habit  of  believing 
that  the  Spanish  and  Portuguese  speaking  inhabitants 
of  the  southern  continent  are  their  affectionate  relatives, 
because  they  share  in  the  same  family  name. 

These,  however,  are  vain  regrets.  The  names  have 
long  been  fixed,  though  for  a great  while  the  Spaniards 
declined  to  talk  of  North  America.  The  thing  is  one 
instance  among  many  to  shew  how  much  may  flow 


488 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


from  a name  which  is  itself  the  result  of  a mere  ac- 
cident. 

Now  let  us  turn  from  names  to  things,  and  consider  in 
what  respect  the  two  Americas,  and  their  peoples,  resem- 
ble and  differ  from  one  another,  and  how  far  thfey  consti- 
tute, politically  or  otherwise,  one  whole  world  apart,  and 
what  are  the  relations  of  the  southern,  or  Spanish  and 
Portuguese,  continent  to  the  other,  now  mainly  Teutonic, 
continent,  and  to  the  countries  of  Europe,  and  whether 
the  term  “ Pan  Americanism  ” describes  a fact  or  merely 
conveys  an  interesting  aspiration.  Some  points  in  the 
history  of  each  continent  may  come  out  more  clearly, 
and  become  more  significant  when  the  two  are  compared, 
for  the  history  of  each  illustrates  that  of  the  other. 

The  physical  structure  of  the  two  continents  shews 
certain  similarities.  Each  is  traversed  from  north  to 
south  by  a great  mountain  chain,  sometimes  breaking 
into  parallel  ridges  and  sometimes  widening  out  into 
high  tablelands.  In  each  this  chain  is  much  nearer  to 
the  western  than  to  the  eastern  coast,  and  in  each  there 
are  volcanic  outbursts  at  various  points  along  the  fines  of 
elevation,  these  being  more  continuous  and  on  a vaster 
scale  in  the  southern  continent.  In  each  there  is, 
moreover,  an  independent  mountain  mass  on  the  east- 
ern side,  the  Appalachian  system  in  North  America, 
the  Brazilian  highlands  in  South  America.  Each  has, 
nearer  to  its  western  than  to  its  eastern  coast,  a desert, 
and  in  that  desert  an  inland  river  basin  with  lakes, 
Great  Salt  Lake  in  Utah  corresponding  roughly  to 
Lakes  Titicaca  and  Poopo  in  Bolivia.  Each  has  two 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


489 


gigantic  rivers,  though  the  Mississippi  and  St.  Law- 
rence are  not  equal  in  volume  to  the  Amazon  and  the 
Parand.  The  shores  of  both  are  washed  by  mighty 
ocean  currents,  but  while  the  Gulf  Stream  warms  the 
east  coast  of  the  northern,  the  Antarctic  current  chills 
the  west  coast  of  the  southern,  continent.1  Their  cli- 
mates are  so  far  similar  that  in  both  the  east  side  of  the 
continent  receives  more  rain  than  the  west,  but  South 
America,  having  its  greatest  breadth  in  the  tropics,  lies 
more  largely  within  the  torrid  zone. 

It  is,  however,  with  the  settlement  and  subsequent 
history  of  the  two  continents  that  the  real  interest  of 
the  comparison  begins.  There  are  three  remarkable 
points  of  similarity,  but  the  points  of  difference  are 
more  numerous  and  instructive,  and,  in  noting  them, 
we  shall  see  how  potent  each  point  of  difference  has 
been  in  directing  the  course  of  events  and  in  forming 
the  character  of  the  communities  that  have  grown  up. 

The  points  of  similarity  are  these.  Both  continents 
were  when  discovered  inhabited  by  races  entirely  unlike 
those  of  Europe,  who  over  the  greater  part  of  this  area 
were  in  the  savage  state,  but  had  in  a few  regions  fa- 
voured by  nature  made  some  progress  towards  civiliza- 
tion. Both  were  conquered  by  Europeans,  and  easily 
conquered,  owing  to  the  superiority  of  the  invaders  in 
arms  and  discipline.  The  peoples  of  both  (with  one  im- 


1 Each  has,  moreover,  other  currents  of  somewhat  less  climatic 
importance  : the  Japan  current  on  the  Pacific  and  the  Arctic  current 
on  the  Atlantic  coast  of  North  America,  as  well  as  the  equatorial 
current  on  a part  of  the  east  coast  of  South  America. 


490 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


portant  exception  in  the  northern  and  three  unimportant 
exceptions  in  the  southern  continent)  ultimately  revolted 
against  the  kingdoms  whence  the  European  part  of  their 
population  had  come  and  have  ever  since  managed  their 
own  affairs  as  republics,  seven  republics  in  North,  eleven 
in  South  America. 

Having  noted  these  general  resemblances  in  the 
fortunes  of  the  two,  let  us  enquire  what  were  the  differ- 
ences, natural  and  political,  which  made  the  lines  of  their 
subsequent  development  diverge. 

At  this  point,  however,  it  is  proper  to  leave  off  talk- 
ing of  North  and  South  America,  for  the  southern  part 
of  the  former  continent  belongs  historically  and  to  some 
extent  physically  also,  to  the  latter  continent.  As  Alex- 
andre Dumas  said  in  writing  of  his  journey  to  Spain, 
“Africa  begins  at  the  Pyrenees,”  — it  is  a saying  wrhich 
the  Spaniards  have  never  forgiven,  — so  we  may  say, 
“South  America  begins  at  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte.” 
Mexico  and  the  states  of  Central  America  down  to  the 
Isthmus  of  Panama  were  parts  of  the  Spanish  colonial 
Empire,  conquered,  settled,  and  administered  in  much 
the  same  way  as  the  still  larger  part  of  that  Empire 
which  lay  farther  south.  We  must,  therefore,  group 
the  regions  that  once  belonged  to  that  Empire  under 
the  general  name  of  Spanish,  or,  when  it  is  desired  to 
include  Brazil  (a  Portuguese  country),  “Latin”  Amer- 
ica, referring  to  the  other  parts  of  the  northern  conti- 
nent as  “Teutonic  America.”  1 

1 Teutonic  may  appear  to  be  no  satisfactory  term,  considering  not 
only  the  French-speaking  population  of  eastern  Canada,  but  also  the 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


491 


The  aboriginal  tribes  with  which  the  English  and 
French  came  in  contact  when  they  settled  the  Atlantic 
coasts  of  North  America  were  scattered  over  a vast 
wooded  region,  lived  mainly  by  the  chase,  and  had 
formed  no  habits  of  regular  industry.  They  were 
mostly  fierce  fighters,  proud  and  dogged,  unwilling  to 
bear  any  control,  and  it  was  found  impracticable  to 
make  slaves  of  them,  or  use  them  for  any  kind  of  regu- 
lar labour.  They  were  unfitted  for  it,  and  it  would 
have  cost  the  settlers  more  effort  to  compel  the  Indians 
to  cut  down  trees  and  till  the  ground  than  to  do  the 
same  things  themselves.  There  was,  accordingly, 
never  any  question  of  Indian  slavery  or  serfdom, 
either  on  the  Atlantic  coasts  or  when  the  march  of 
colonization  advanced  further  inland,  nor  was  there 
more  than  a scanty  intermarriage  between  the  settlers 
and  the  natives. 

Other  reasons  besides  those  connected  with  labour 
prevented  any  admixture  in  these  regions  of  the  white 
with  the  native  races.  There  was  little  social  inter- 
course, because  the  Indians,  even  the  majority  of  the 
less  warlike  tribes  of  Virginia  and  the  regions  south 
of  Virginia,  were  driven  out,  or  retired,  or  died  out. 
Their  barbarous  way  of  life  drew  a sharp  line  between 
them  and  the  white  intruders.  The  latter,  moreover, 
brought  their  women  with  them,  and  had  less  tempta- 
tion to  seek  wives  among  the  Indians.  Thus  it  was  only 


large  Celtic,  Italic,  and  Slavonic  elements  within  the  United  States. 
Nevertheless,  the  general  social  type  of  that  country  and  of  Canada 
is  Teutonic,  as  are  also  their  institutions  and  their  language. 


492 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


among  the  French  voyageurs  and  trappers  of  the  region 
round  and  beyond  the  Great  Lakes  that  any  mixed  race 
grew  up,  half  white,  half  Indian,  and  this  race  has  now 
almost  disappeared. 

In  Spanish  America,  the  case  was  quite  different. 
Both  in  Mexico,  in  parts  of  Central  America,  and  in 
Peru  there  was  a large  sedentary  population  of  aborig- 
ines, cultivating  the  soil  and  trained  to  industry  dur- 
ing many  generations.  The  Conquerors  immediately 
turned  them  into  serfs,  parcelling  them  out  among 
the  persons  who  received  land  grants,  and  who  there- 
after lived  on  the  produce  of  this  semiservile  labour. 
The  result  was  that  whereas  in  Teutonic  America  there 
grew  up,  slowly  at  first,  a white  agricultural  population 
and  ultimately  a white  manufacturing  population  also,  in 
Spanish  America  agriculture  was  left  almost  entirely  to 
the  aborigines,  and  the  pure  white  population  increased 
hardly  at  all,  because  few  new  settlers  came.  There 
appeared,  however,  and  that  within  two  or  three  gen- 
erations, a considerable  mestizo  or  half-breed  popula- 
tion, which  has  come,  after  three  centuries,  to  constitute 
most  of  the  upper  class  and  practically  the  whole  of  the 
middle  class  in  all  but  two  of  the  republics. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  the  divergent  careers  of  the 
two  sets  of  European  colonists,  Spaniards  and  English- 
men, a divergence  which  ultimately  gave  to  the  social 
system  of  each  set  its  own  peculiar  structure.  Two 
other  circumstances  helped  to  deepen  the  divergence. 
One  was  the  hot  climate  of  most  parts  of  Spanish 
America,  which  made  field  labour,  or,  indeed,  any  kind 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


493 


of  manual  labour,  more  distasteful  to  men  of  European 
stock  than  such  labour  was  in  the  northern  parts  of 
Teutonic  America.  The  same  cause,  it  need  hardly  be 
said,  had  much  to  do  with  the  importation  of  negroes 
on  a vast  scale  into  the  southern  parts  of  the  British 
North  American  colonies.  Such  an  expedient  was  less 
needed  in  Mexico  and  Peru,  because  they  possessed  (as 
already  remarked)  a native  population  that  could  be 
reduced  to  serfdom.  In  Spanish  America,  accordingly, 
all  forms  of  labour  connected  with  land  were  left  by  the 
European  settlers  to  the  natives,  and  no  white  peas- 
antry grew  up. 

The  other  circumstance  was  that  whereas  in  Teutonic 
America  few  or  no  mines  were  discovered  or  worked  for 
a long  time  after  the  country  had  begun  to  be  occupied, 
the  Spaniards,  having  hit  upon  regions  rich,  some  of 
them  in  gold,  many  of  them  in  silver,  began  greedily 
to  exploit  this  natural  wealth  and  forced  the  natives  to 
toil  for  them  in  this  (to  the  native  particularly  odious) 
kind  of  work.  The  destruction  of  human  life  was  terrible, 
but  in  those  days  life  was  little  regarded.  So  was  the 
slave-trade  terrible  in  the  deaths  it  caused  and  the  suffer- 
ing it  inflicted,  but  the  conscience  of  England  was  not 
stirred  against  it  till  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
The  development  of  mining  in  Spanish  America,  im- 
mense for  the  sixteenth,  seventeenth,  and  eighteenth 
centuries,  when  comparatively  little  was  going  on  else- 
where, had  many  effects  for  Spain  and  for  the  world. 
For  Mexico  and  Peru  the  most  direct  effect  was  to  enrich 
a good  many  persons  without  any  industrial  efforts  put 


494 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


forth  by  themselves,1  and  to  lead  the  settlers  as  a whole 
to  rely  less  upon  agriculture  than  men  did  in  the  English 
colonies.  A luxurious  style  of  living  established  itself 
in  the  city  of  Mexico  and  in  Lima,  most  unlike  the  frugal 
simplicity  of  Boston  or  Providence,  or  even -of  Phila- 
delphia or  New  York,  in  the  eighteenth  century. 

It  has  often  been  observed  that  whereas  the  men  who 
went  to  the  northern  English  colonies  were  mostly 
small  farmers  or  townsfolk  of  the  trading  or  artisan 
classes,  the  Spanish  emigrants  were  mainly  adventurers, 
making  gold  and  silver  their  first  object,  the  acquisition 
of  plantations  or  mines  to  be  worked  by  natives  the 
second.  This  stamped  on  Spanish  colonial  society 
what  can  hardly  be  called  an  aristocratic  character, 
for  many  of  the  emigrant-adventurers,  like  the  Pizarro 
brothers,  sprang  from  a humble  social  stratum,  but 
yet  a character  which  lacked  both  the  sentiment  of 
equality  and  a respect  for  industry. 

Not  less  marked  than  these  social  differences  were 
those  which  belonged  to  the  sphere  of  government  and 
administration.  The  English  colonies  were  for  the 
most  part  left  to  govern  themselves.  Each  had  not 
only  its  colonial  assembly,  but  also  local  assemblies  for 
towns  and  counties,  along  with  the  English  arrange- 
ments for  securing  justice  in  civil  and  criminal  matters 
by  juries.  Even  the  governors  sent  out  from  England, 
where  such  there  were,  interfered  but  little  with  the 
power  of  the  colonists  to  regulate  their  own  affairs.  The 

1 Although  one-fifth  of  the  produce  was,  as  a rule,  transmitted  to 
the  government  at  home. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


495 


Crown  did  occasionally  assert  its  prerogative,  but  these 
instances  and  the  resistance  which  arbitrary  interven- 
tion evoked  bear  witness  to  the  general  adherence 
to  the  principles  of  local  self-government.  In  the 
Spanish  colonies,  on  the  other  hand,  all  power  re- 
mained in  the  Crown,  and  was  exercised  either  directly 
from  Spain  by  ordinances  made  or  orders  issued  there, 
or  else  through  the  viceroy  or  captain-general  of  each 
colony.  Lucrative  posts  were  reserved  for  persons  of 
Spanish  birth,  who  obtained  them  by  court  favour 
at  home,  or  perhaps  from  a viceroy,  who  had  brought 
them  out  in  his  suite.  In  the  field  of  religion  the 
contrast  was  even  greater.  Ecclesiastical  power  had 
in  Spanish  America  been  almost  equal  to  civil.  Al- 
though the  Crown  of  Spain  yielded  less  authority  to 
the  Pope  in  its  transatlantic  than  it  did  in  its  European 
dominions,  the  church  as  a whole,  archbishops  and 
bishops,  the  Orders  and  the  Holy  Office,  were,  in 
America,  an  immense  and  omnipresent  force,  with  whom 
even  viceroys  had  to  reckon,  for  their  influence  was  great 
in  the  Court  at  home  as  well  as  over  the  minds  and 
conduct  of  the  colonists.  Society  was  saturated  with 
clericalism,  and  a taint  of  heterodoxy  was  more  danger- 
ous than  one  of  disloyalty. 

Putting  all  these  things  together,  it  can  be  seen  how 
little  in  common  Teutonic  America  and  Spanish  Amer- 
ica had  when  the  colonial  period  ended  for  each  of 
them  by  its  severance  from  the  mother  country.  They 
were,  in  fact,  unlike  in  everything,  except  their  position 
in  the  Western  Hemisphere.  Few,  and  far  from  friendly, 


496 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


had  been  their  relations.  There  had  been  very  little 
commercial  intercourse  but  a great  deal  of  fighting. 
English  and  American  buccaneers  and  pirates  — the 
two  classes  were  practically  the  same  — had  been  wont 
to  prey  upon  Spanish  colonial  commerce  and  pillage 
Spanish  colonial  cities.  There  probably  remained  more 
aversion  between  the  two  races  in  America  than  in 
Europe,  for  in  their  hostility  to  France  during  the  eigh- 
teenth century  the  people  of  Britain  had  almost  for- 
gotten their  hostility  to  Spain.  To  the  New  Englander 
or  Virginian  the  colonial  Spaniard  had  been  a Papist  and 
a persecutor,  to  the  colonial  Spaniard  his  neighbours 
on  the  north  were  pirates  and  heretics. 

What  change  was  made  by  the  two  wars  against  the 
two  mother  countries  and  the  independence  which 
followed  ? It  might  have  seemed  likely  that  now, 
when  both  parts  of  the  New  World  were  disconnected 
from  the  Old  and  both  had  republican  forms  of  govern- 
ment, they  might  begin  to  draw  together.  Indepen- 
dence, though  it  came  nearly  forty  years  later  to  Spanish 
America,  made  more  difference  there  than  it  had  done 
to  the  English  colonies.  Those  who  had  been  kept 
in  leading  strings  by  Spain  were  now  left  to  their  own 
devices.  Ill-built  and  ill-steered  had  been  the  vessel 
that  carried  their  fortunes,  but  now  they  began  to 
drift  and  be  tossed  about  with  neither  compass  nor 
pilot.  An  era  of  civil  wars  and  military  revolutions 
set  in,  which  lasted  in  Mexico  nearly  half  a century, 
in  Peru  and  Argentina  still  longer,  and  which  seems  to 
have  become  chronic  in  some  of  the  more  backward 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


497 


states.  While  Teutonic  America  was  making  enor- 
mous strides  in  population  and  prosperity,  intestine 
strife  checked  all  progress,  educational  and  material, 
in  the  Spanish  lands  during  two  generations.  It  is  to 
the  last  thirty  years  of  the  nineteenth  century  that  the 
development  of  Mexico,  Argentina,  Chile,  and  Uruguay 
belongs.  After  the  Latin- American  countries  had  be- 
come independent,  there  was  no  more  commercial 
intercourse  between  them  and  the  United  States  than 
there  had  been  in  colonial  days  and  no  more  commu- 
nity of  feeling.  Warm  sympathy  had  been  expressed  by 
the  latter  with  the  colonies  in  their  struggle  against 
Spain,  and  the  declaration  made  by  John  Quincy 
Adams  in  concert  with  the  English  George  Canning 
against  any  interference  by  the  Holy  Alliance  to  support 
the  cause  of  monarchy  in  the  New  World,  was  gratefully 
welcomed  by  the  insurgents.  But  no  friendship  between 
English-speaking  and  Spanish-speaking  men  grew  up, 
and  the  war  of  the  United  States  against  Mexico  in  1846, 
undertaken  not  so  much  because  there  were  grievances 
against  Mexico  as  from  a desire  to  extend  the  area  of 
slavery  in  the  United  States,  and  strengthen  the  Slave 
Power  itself,  exposed  United  States  policy  to  suspicions 
that  sank  deep  into  the  Spanish-American  mind. 

From  this  consideration  of  the  past  relations  of  the  two 
American  continents,  let  us  return  to  the  divergence  of 
their  fortunes.  At  the  time  of  the  Discovery,  the  regions 
which  passed  under  the  rule  of  Spain  were  richer,  more 
advanced  in  the  arts  of  life,  and  far  more  populous  than 
those  whose  settlement  began  with  the  expeditions  of 
2k 


498 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Champlain  and  Raleigh.  We  have  no  data  for  guessing 
at  the  population  of  the  New  World  either  in  1500  or  in 
1600,  but  at  both  dates  there  evidently  were  in  Mexico 
( and  Central  America  far  more  inhabitants  than  in  all  the 
rest  of  the  Northern  Continent  taken  together?  As  re- 
gards South  America,  the  empire  of  the  Incas  alone  prob- 
ably contained  from  nine  to  eleven  millions1  of  persons,  a 
number  many  times  greater  than  that  of  all  the  aborig- 
ines that  at  any  one  time  dwelt  between  the  Arctic 
circle  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Even  in  1800  the  popula- 
tion of  Mexico  alone,  without  counting  South  America, 
was  far  larger  than  that  of  the  United  States  and  Canada. 
But  from  1810,  when  the  revolt  of  the  Spanish  colonies 
began,  down  till  1860,  the  growth  of  those  colonies  was 
slow,  and  in  some  there  was  even  retrogression.  Mean- 
while the  United  States,  and  latterly,  Canada  also,  have 
been  advancing  with  unexampled  speed,  so  that  now 
their  population,  about  108  millions,  far  exceeds  that  of 
all  the  Spanish  republics  in  both  continents.  The 
hotter  countries  were  at  one  time  more  populous  than 
the  temperate;  now  the  reverse  holds.  If  we  regard 
wealth,  there  is,  of  course,  no  comparison  at  all  between 
Teutonic  America,  as  it  stands  to-day,  and  the  southern 
regions.  Yet  Spain  was  long  supposed  to  have  got  by 
far  the  best  parts  of  the  New  World,  not  so  much  because 
they  had  tropical  productiveness,  as  in  respect  of  the 
quantity  of  the  precious  metals  they  contained.  The 

1 See  as  to  Peru,  which  was  only  the  central  part  of  that  Empire, 
the  figure  of  8,000,000,  given  for  1575,  after  the  great  slaughter 
of  the  Spanish  Conquest  (pp.  162-163). 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


499 


economic  change  from  the  sixteenth  century  to  the 
twentieth  which  the  progress  of  natural  science  and 
mechanical  invention  has  brought  about  can  hardly 
be  better  illustrated  than  by  the  changed  importance 
which  coal,  iron,  and  copper  have  for  our  time  when 
compared  with  that  which  gold  and  silver  had  in  the 
days  of  Charles  the  Fifth. 

When  the  North  American  colonies  separated  from 
England,  they  were  a small  nation  of  less  than  three 
millions  on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Thence  they  spread  out 
over  the  vast  space  beyond  the  Alleghany  Mountains, 
then  across  the  Mississippi,  finally  over  the  Rocky 
Mountains  to  the  Pacific,  remaining  one  nation  over 
a territory  thirty  times  greater  than  that  which  had 
been  actually  settled  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution. 
The  same  process  happened  later  and  on  a smaller  scale 
in  the  dominion  which  remained  to  England  in  the  north. 
The  Canadians  have  spread  out  from  the  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  to  Vancouver  Island,  also  remaining  one 
people.  Thus  Teutonic  America  now  consists  of  two 
nations  only.1  How  different  the  fate  of  the  Spanish 
colonies.  Scattered  over  a space  eight  thousand  miles 
long  from  San  Francisco  to  Magellan’s  Straits,  in  days 
before  railways  existed  and  with  even  steam  navigation 
in  its  infancy,  they  did  not  think  of  trying  to  maintain 

1 Had  the  Slave  States  succeeded  in  dissociating  themselves  from 
the  northern  and  western  Free  States  in  the  Civil  War  of  1861-1865, 
there  would  have  been  at  least  three.  It  may  be  suggested  that  if 
there  had  been  neither  steamships  nor  railroads,  the  Pacific  slope 
of  North  America  (California,  Oregon,  and  Washington)  might 
possibly  have  become  the  home  of  yet  another  independent  nation. 


500 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


political  connection  across  vast  distances,  and  natu- 
rally fell  apart  into  many  independent  states,  roughly 
corresponding  to  the  administrative  divisions  of  colonial 
days.  The  number  of  these  states  has  varied  from 
time  to  time.  At  present  there  are  six  on  the  North 
American  continent,  and  ten  on  the  South  American, 
without  counting  Portuguese  Brazil  and  the  three 
island  republics  of  Cuba,  San  Domingo,  and  Hayti. 
Out  of  the  lands  that  obeyed  Charles  the  Fifth,  nine- 
teen states  have  grown,  all  (except  Hayti)  speaking 
Spanish,  while  the  English-speaking  peoples  are  but 
two.  Although  the  size  of  the  territory  occupied  by 
these  nineteen  is  the  primary  cause  of  this  multiplication 
of  small  nations,  there  are  other  causes,  also,  political  and 
social,  which  have  been  discussed  in  an  earlier  chapter.1 
One  bond  of  union  they  had,  one  solid  basis  of  common 
sentiment  which,  nevertheless,  did  not  avail  to  hold 
them  together.  They  all  professed  the  Roman  Catholic 
faith  and  all  obeyed  one  spiritual  sovereign  at  Rome, 
whereas  among  the  men  of  English  speech  in  Teu- 
tonic America  there  were,  and  are,  not  only  many 
Roman  Catholics,  but  also  among  the  larger  mass  of 
Protestants  many  forms  of  Protestantism,  and  no  com- 
mon ecclesiastical  authority  at  all. 

This  summary  review  of  the  causes  which  have  made 
the  currents  of  Spanish-American  and  Teutonic-American 
history  run  in  different  and  divergent  channels  may  be 
closed  by  enquiring  what  the  two  divisions  of  the  New 
World  have  in  common  to-day. 


1 Chapter  XII. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


501 


They  are  alike  in  being  (always  excepting  Canada) 
republican  in  the  outward  forms  of  their  governments; 
that  is  to  say,  there  is  nowhere  any  official  called  a 
king.  How  far  the  governments  of  most  Spanish- 
American  states  are  from  being  republican  in  spirit 
and  working  everybody  knows.  To  most  men’s  minds, 
however,  the  form  means  a great  deal.  In  Spanish 
America  itself  people  who  acquiesce  in  transitory  dic- 
tatorships would  be  horrified  at  the  idea  of  a hereditary 
sovereign,  however  constitutional.  And  there  are  still 
many  people  in  the  United  States  who  find  some  virtue 
in  the  mere  name  of  republic. 

The  two  divisions  are  also  alike  in  belonging  to  a New 
World;  that  is  to  say,  they  have  shaken  loose  from  many 
ideas  and  habits  that  belonged,  and  still  more  or  less  be- 
long, to  the  Old  World  of  Europe.  Spanish  America  has 
done  this  more  completely  than  has  Teutonic  America, 
because  even  in  colonial  days  the  ties  of  thought  and 
feeling  which  bound  the  colonists  to  Spain  were  really 
less  strong  than  those  which  connected  the  English  of  the 
United  States  with  their  mother  country,  and  because 
the  latter  were,  when  the  separation  came,  in  a higher 
stage  of  institutional  and  intellectual  development.  The 
most  signal  instance  of  the  general  American  breach 
with  the  Old  World  is  the  sense  of  social  equality  that 
now  prevails  alike  in  the  English-speaking  and  the  Span- 
ish-speaking peoples.  The  forms  in  which  this  sense 
appears  are  not  quite  the  same.  Among  the  Spanish 
Americans  there  is  more  external  deference  on  the  part 
of  the  humbler  to  the  higher  placed,  and  the  pure  Indian 


502 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


is  treated,  and  submits  to  be  treated,  as  a social  inferior 
In  Chile,  for  instance,  the  roto,  or  half-breed  peasant, 
stands  far  more  distinctly  below  the  landowner  than 
the  North  American  day  labourer  stands  below  his  em- 
ployer; though  it  is  his  ignorance,  not  his  mixed  blood, 
that  assigns  this  position  to  him.  But  in  both  conti- 
nents the  complete  absence  of  any  artificial  and  formal 
distinctions  of  rank  is  in  striking  contrast  to  the  habits 
and  ideas  that  still  hold  in  most  parts  of  Europe. 1 

It  must  be  added  that  these  republics  of  the  West 
have,  politically  regarded,  one  important  common  char- 
acteristic. They  constitute  what  German  historians 
call  a “ States-System ” of  their  own;  i.e.  they  take  no 
part  in  the  politics  of  the  Old  World,  but  only  in  those 
of  the  New.  This  is  no  longer  true  as  respects  the  United 
States,  for  though  they  do  not  interfere  in  questions  purely 
European,  and  have  touched  those  of  Africa  only  slightly 
in  the  Congo,  and  more  effectively  in  Liberia,  which,  in- 
deed, they  called  into  being,  they  have,  by  conquering 
the  Philippine  Islands,  made  themselves  an  Asiatic  power, 
and  by  annexing  Hawaii  and  one  of  the  Samoan  Islands, 
a Pacific  power.  Latin- American  republics,  however, 
have  (so  far  as  I know)  intervened  neither  in  European 
nor  in  Asiatic  affairs,  being  content  to  attend  strictly  to 
their  own  business,  which  is  sufficiently  absorbing. 

Latin  America  consists  of  two  separate  state-systems. 
One  includes  Mexico  and  the  five  small  Central  Arner- 

1 There  are  no  titles  of  nobility  in  use  in  Latin  America,  except  in 
Brazil,  where  a very  few  families  still  have  the  titles  of  Viscount 
and  Baron. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


503 


ican  republics,  two  of  which,  Costa  Rica  and  Salvador, 
are  peaceful  within  and  seldom  embroiled  abroad,  while 
the  other  three  have  had  more  chequered  careers. 
Members  of  this  group  have  had  plenty  to  do  with 
the  United  States,  but  seldom  come  into  contact 
with  the  South  American  countries.  The  little  republic 
of  Panama,  which  is  virtually  under  the  protection  of  the 
United  States,  may  now  be  deemed  a “ buffer  state,”  be- 
tween Colombia  and  the  republics  to  the  north,  nor  does 
any  Central  American  republic  possess  a navy.  The 
larger  group  is  composed  of  the  eleven  South  American 
states.  It  presents  some  analogies  to  the  Europe  of 
the  eighteenth  century  in  which  there  were  several  great 
powers  “playing  the  great  game”  against  one  another 
and  against  the  smaller  powers,  nominally  in  the  interest 
of  that  so-called  Balance  of  Power  which  was  to  pre- 
vent any  one  from  dominating  the  others,  but  often  in 
reality  for  the  sake  of  appropriating  territory,  when- 
ever a dynastic  pretext  could  be  found.  In  this  group 
there  are  three  great  powers,  Argentina,  Brazil,  and 
Chile;  and  when  these  three  stand  together,  they  can 
keep  all  the  rest  quiet,  especially  if  (as  they  may  usu- 
ally expect)  the  United  States  throws  its  influence  into 
the  scale  of  peace.  At  present  these  three  are  tolerably 
friendly,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
remain  so.  Between  them  there  exist  no  longer  such 
territorial  controversies  as  disturb  the  repose  of  Ec- 
uador, Colombia,  and  Peru.1  The  politics  of  South 

1 One  question  exists  which  might  possibly  create  friction  between 
Argentina  and  Brazil,  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  any  colli- 
sion will  be  avoided. 


504 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


America  present  an  interesting  field  for  study,  but  it 
is  one  upon  which  I cannot  now  and  here  enter. 

Some  publicists  have  suggested  that  troubles  might 
arise  to  affect  South  America  from  without  if  Japan  or 
China  were  to  insist  on  flooding  her  with  {heir  emi- 
grants, and  that  if  this  were  attempted  against  one  of 
the  weaker  South  American  republics,  either  the  greater 
South  American  Powers,  or  the  United  States,  or  both, 
might  be  tempted  to  intervene.  There  are  at  present 
some  Chinese  and  a very  few  Japanese  on  the  Pacific 
coast,  but  no  more  seem  to  have  been  arriving  in  recent 
years.  Any  danger  of  this  nature  seems  remote  and 
improbable. 

With  these  three  things,  however, — republican  forms, 
social  equality,  and  detachment  from  European  poli- 
tics, — the  list  of  the  things  which  the  two  Americas 
have  in  common  ends.  Far  more  numerous  and  more 
important  are  the  points  in  which  they  stand  con- 
trasted. ^ 

Many  causes  have  gone  to  the  making  of  the  contrast. 
Race  and  religion,  climate  and  history  have  all  had  their 
share.  The  contrast  appears  both  in  ideas  and  in 
temperament.  The  Spanish  American  is  more  proud 
and  more  sensitive  to  any  slight.  He  is  not  so  punc- 
tilious in  his  politeness  as  is  the  Spaniard  of  Europe, 
and  is,  indeed,  in  some  countries  a little  brusque  or 
offhand  in  manners  and  speech.  But  he  feels  a slight 
keenly ; and  he  knows  how  to  respect  the  susceptibilities 
of  his  fellow-citizens.  I will  not  say  that  he  is  more 
pleasure-loving  than  the  North  American,  for  the  latter 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


505 


has  developed  of  late  years  a passion  for  amusement 
which  would  have  startled  his  Puritan  ancestors.  But 
he  is  less  assiduous  and  less  strenuous  in  wTork,  being, 
in  this  respect,  unlike  the  immigrant  who  comes  from  Old 
Spain,  especially  the  Asturian  and  the  Gallego,  who  is  the 
soul  of  thrift  and  the  steadiest  of  toilers.  He  is  not  so 
fond  of  commercial  business,  nor  so  apt  for  it,  nor  so  eager 
to  “get  on  ” and  get  rich.  The  process  of  money  making 
has  not  for  him  that  fatal  attraction  which  enslaves  so 
many  capable  men  in  the  United  States  and  (to  a less 
degree)  in  England  and  Germany,  leading  them  to  forget 
the  things  that  make  life  worth  living,  till  it  is  too  late 
in  life  to  enjoy  them.  In  South  America  things  are 
taken  easily  and  business  concerns  are  largely  in  the 
hands  of  foreigners.  The  South  American  — and  here 
I include  the  Mexican  — is  an  excitable  being  and  prone 
to  express  his  feelings  forcibly,  having  absorbed  from 
the  Indians  none  of  their  stolid  taciturnity.  He  is  gen- 
erally good  natured  and  hospitable,  and  responds  quickly 
to  anything  said  or  done  which  shews  appreciation  of 
his  country  and  its  ways.  Private  friendship  or  family 
relationship  have  a great  effect  on  his  conduct,  and 
often  an  undue  effect,  for  one  is  everywhere  told  that 
the  difficulty  of  securing  justice  in  these  republics  lies 
not  so  much  in  the  corruptibility  of  judges,  as  in  their 
tendency  to  be  influenced  by  personal  partiality. 
Things  go  by  favour. 

These  contrasts  of  temperament  between  North  and 
South  Americans  give  rise  to  different  tastes  and  a 
different  view  of  life,  so  that,  broadly  speaking,  the 


506 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


latter  are  not  “ sympathetic”  either  to  the  former  or  to 
Englishmen.1  To  say  that  they  are  antipathetic 
would  be  going  too  far,  for  there  is  nothing  to  make  un- 
friendliness, nor,  indeed,  is  there  any  unfriendliness. 
But  both  North  Americans  and  Englishmen  are  built  on 
lines  of  thought  and  feeling  so  different  from  those  which 
belong  to  South  Americans  that  the  races  do  not  draw 
naturally  together,  and  find  it  hard  to  appreciate 
duly  one  another’s  good  qualities.2 

The  use  of  nicknames  has  a certain  significance.  In 
South  America  a North  American  or  Englishman  is 
popularly  called  a “Gringo,”  as  in  North  America  a 
person  speaking  Italian  or  Spanish  or  Portuguese  is 
vulgarly  called  a “Dago.”  Neither  term  has  any  eulo- 
gistic flavour. 

Thus  we  return  to  the  question  whence  we  started, 
and  ask  again  whether  there  is  any  sort  of  unity  or 
community  in  the  two  Americas.  Are  the  peoples  of 
these  continents  a group  by  themselves,  nearer  to  one 
another  than  they  are  to  other  peoples,  possessing 
a common  character,  common  ties  of  interest  and 
feeling?  Or  does  the  common  American  name  mean 

1 One  is  told,  but  I had  no  means  of  verifying  the  statement, 
that  Scotchmen  and  Irishmen  and  Germans  get  on  rather  better  with 
the  Latin  Americans. 

2 In  a remarkable  speech  made  in  New  York  in  1909,  a speech 
which  shewed  his  comprehension  of  the  good  points  of  Spanish- 
American  character,  Mr.  Root  deplored  the  fact  that  the  North 
American  press  was  apt  to  indulge  in  criticisms  of  Spanish  Amer- 
icans displeasing  to  the  latter,  the  effect  of  which  their  authors, 
accustomed  to  criticise  their  own  fellow-countrymen  freely,  did  not 
realize. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


507 


nothing  more  than  mere  local  juxtaposition  beyond  the 
Atlantic  ? Is  it,  in  fact,  anything  more  than  a historical 
accident  ? 

The  answer  would  seem  to  be  that  Teutonic  Ameri- 
cans and  Spanish  Americans  have  nothing  in  common 
except  two  names,  the  name  American  and  the  name 
Republican.  In  essentials  they  differ  as  widely  as 
either  of  them  does  from  any  other  group  of  peoples, 
and  far  more  widely  than  citizens  of  the  United  States 
differ  from  Englishmen,  or  than  Chileans  and  Argen- 
tines differ  from  Spaniards  and  Frenchmen. 

Nevertheless,  juxtaposition  has  induced  contact, 
though  a contact  which  we  shall  find  to  have  been  rather 
political  than  intellectual  or  social.  It  is  worth  while 
to  examine  the  attitude  of  each  to  the  other. 

When  the  Spanish  colonies  revolted 1 against  the 
Crown  of  Spain,  the  sympathy  of  the  United  States 
went  out  to  them  profusely,  and  continued  with  them 
throughout  the  war  and  long  after.  Their  victories 
were  acclaimed  as  victories  won  for  freedom  and  for 
America,  and  children  were  called  after  the  name  of 
Simon  Bolivar,  whose  exploits  in  Venezuela  had  early 
fixed  upon  him  the  attention  of  the  world,  and  have 
given  him  a fame  possibly  beyond  his  merits. 

The  struggling  colonists  were  cheered  by  this  as  by  the 
similar  sympathy  that  came  to  them  from  England. 
They  were,  as  already  observed,  grateful  for  the  support 

1 In  some  of  the  colonies  the  revolt  was  at  first  rather  on  behalf 
of  the  Spanish  king  against  the  Napoleonic  government  in  Spain, 
but  the  movement  everywhere  soon  passed  into  one  for  independence. 


508 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


given  them  by  the  diplomacy  of  Canning  and  John 
Quincy  Adams,  and  when  they  framed  their  constitu- 
tions, took  that  of  the  United  States  for  their  model. 
Their  regard  for  the  United  States,  and  confidence  in 
its  purposes,  never  quite  recovered  the  blow  given  by  the 
Mexican  War  of  1846  and  the  annexation  of  California ; 
but  this  change  of  sentiment  did  not  affect  the  patronage 
and  good-will  extended  to  them  by  the  United  States, 
whose  people,  and  for  a time  the  English  Whigs  also, 
maintained  their  touching  faith  that  countries  called 
republics  must  needs  be  graced  by  republican  virtues 
and  were  entitled  to  favour  whenever  they  came  into 
collision  with  monarchies.  This  tendency  of  mind, 
natural  in  the  days  when  the  monarchies  of  continental 
Europe  were  more  or  less  despotic,  has  begun  to  die 
down  of  late  years,  as  educated  men  have  come  to  look 
more  at  things  than  at  names,  and  as  United  States 
statesmen  found  themselves  from  time  to  time  annoyed 
by  the  perversity  or  shiftiness  of  military  dictators 
ruling  Spanish-American  countries.  The  big  nation 
has,  however,  generally  borne  such  provocations  with 
patience,  abusing  its  strength  less  than  the  rulers  of 
the  little  ones  abuse  their  weakness.  For  many  years 
after  the  achievement  by  the  Spanish  colonies  of  their  in- 
dependence, a political  tie  between  them  and  the  United 
States  was  found  in  the  declared  intention  of  the  latter 
to  resist  any  attempt  by  European  Powers  either  to 
overthrow  republican  government  in  any  American  state 
or  to  attempt  annexation  of  its  territory.  So  long  as  any 
such  action  was  feared  from  Europe,  the  protection  thus 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS  509 

promised  was  welcome,  and  the  United  States  felt  a 
corresponding  interest  in  their  clients.  But  circum- 
stances alter  cases.  To-day,  when  apprehensions  of  the 
old  kind  have  vanished,  and  when  some  of  the  South 
American  states  feel  themselves  already  powerful,  one 
is  told  that  they  have  begun  to  regard  the  situation 
with  different  eyes.  “Since  there  are  no  longer  rain- 
clouds  coming  up  from  the  east,  why  should  a friend, 
however  well-intentioned,  insist  on  holding  an  umbrella 
over  us  ? We  are  quite  able  to  do  that  for  ourselves  if 
necessary.”  In  a very  recent  book  by  one  of  the  most 
acute  and  thoughtful  of  North  American  travellers,  there 
occurs  a passage  which  presents  this  view  : — 

“Many  aChileno  and  Argentino  resents  the  idea  of  our 
Monroe  Doctrine  applying  in  any  sense  to  his  country 
and  declares  that  we  had  better  keep  it  at  home.  He 
regards  it  as  only  another  sign  of  our  overweening 
national  conceit:  and  on  mature  consideration  it  does 
seem  as  though  the  justification  for  the  doctrine  both  in 
its  original  and  in  its  present  form  had  passed.  Europe 
is  no  longer  ruled  by  despots  who  desire  to  crush  the 
liberties  of  their  subjects.  As  is  frequently  remarked, 
England  has  a more  democratic  government  than  the 
United  States.  In  all  the  leading  countries  of  Europe 
the  people  have  practically  as  much  to  say  about  the 
government  as  they  have  in  America.  There  is  not  the 
slightest  danger  that  any  European  tyrant  will  attempt 
to  enslave  the  weak  republics  of  this  hemisphere.  Fur- 
thermore, such  republics  as  Mexico,  Argentina  and 
Brazil,  Chile,  and  Peru,  no  more  need  our  Monroe 


510 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Doctrine  to  keep  them  from  being  robbed  of  their 
territory  by  European  nations,  than  does  Italy  or  Spain. 
If  it  be  true  that  some  of  the  others,  like  the  notoriously 
lawless  group  in  Central  America,  need  to  be  looked 
after  by  their  neighbours,  let  us  amend  our 'outgrown 
Monroe  Doctrine,  as  already  suggested  by  one  of  our 
writers  on  International  Law,  so  as  to  include  in  the 
police  force  in  the  Western  Hemisphere  those  who  have 
shown  themselves  able  to  practise  self-control.”  1 

There  is  truth  in  this.  The  talk  often  heard  in  the 
United  States  about  the  Doctrine  has  injured  and  is 
injuring  her  influence  in  South  America.  It  excites 
suspicion  and  alarm.  It  is  taken  to  imply  an  intent  to 
claim  a sort  of  protectorate  over  the  other  American 
republics,  than  which  nothing  could  more  offend  Spanish- 
American  sentiment.  The  wisest  among  American 
foreign  ministers,  such  as  Mr.  Hay  and  Mr.  Root,  are 
those  who  have  least  frequently  referred  to  the  Doc- 
trine. To  examine  this  subject,  however,  would  lead 
me  into  the  field  of  politics,  and  with  politics  I have 


1 Mr.  Hiram  Bingham  in  Across  South  America,  published  in  1911. 
Mr.  Bingham  adds  in  the  same  connection : “ The  number  of 
‘ North  Americans  ’ in  Buenos  Aires  is  very  small.  While  we  have 
been  slowly  waking  up  to  the  fact  that  South  America  is  something 
more  than  ‘ a land  of  revolutions  and  fevers,’  our  German  cousins 
have  entered  the  field  on  all  sides.  The  Germans  in  southern 
Brazil  are  a negligible  factor  in  international  affairs,  but  the  well- 
educated  young  German  who  is  being  sent  out  to  capture  South 
America  commercially  is  a power  to  be  reckoned  with.  He  is  going 
to  damage  England  more  truly  than  dreadnoughts  or  airships.” 
See  also  the  judicious  remarks  of  Mr.  Albert  Hale  in  his  book,  The 
South  Americans,  pp.  303-309. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


511 


nothing  to  do,  seeking  only  to  indicate  the  influences  of 
interest,  of  intellectual  affinity,  and  of  temperamental 
sympathy  which  draw  the  peoples  of  Spanish  America 
towards  one  or  other  of  the  great  peoples  of  the  North- 
ern Hemisphere.1 

As  regards  the  United  States  there  is  a balance  be- 
tween attraction  and  suspicion.  The  South  Americans 
desire  good  relations,  and  recognize  the  value  of  her 
diplomatic  action  in  trying  to  preserve  peace  between 
those  of  their  republics  whose  smouldering  enmities 
often  threaten  to  burst  into  flame.  On  the  other  hand, 
as  already  observed,  they  are  jealous  of  their  own 
dignity,  not  at  all  disposed  to  be  patronized,  and  quick 
to  resent  anything  bordering  on  a threat,  even  when 
addressed,  not  to  themselves,  but  to  some  other  re- 
public. It  is  as  the  disinterested,  the  absolutely  dis- 
interested and  unselfish,  advocate  of  peace  and  good 
will,  that  the  United  States  will  have  most  influence  in 

1 The  idea  of  bringing  all  American  republics  together  in  congresses 
to  discuss  matters  of  common  interest,  was  started  by  Bolivar  with 
the  view  of  organizing  joint  resistance  to  any  action  by  the  Holy 
Alliance  against  the  new  republics.  At  his  instance  such  a gathering 
met  at  Panama  in  1826.  Delegates  met  again  in  1883  at  Caracas 
and  Buenos  Aires,  but  accomplished  nothing.  In  1899  a more  largely 
attended  gathering  assembled  at  Washington,  the  chief  result  of 
which  was  the  establishment  there  of  an  institution,  now  called  the 
Pan-American  Union,  which  under  its  zealous  and  energetic  director 
collects,  publishes,  and  distributes  information,  chiefly  statistical 
and  commercial,  regarding  the  various  republics.  Similar  congresses 
have  been  subsequently  held  at  Mexico,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  and  Buenos 
Aires,  at  which  friendly  sentiments  have  been  interchanged,  but  no 
encouragement  has  been  given  to  suggestions  proceeding  from  the 
United  States  for  reciprocal  “ Pan-American  trade  preferences. 


512 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  Western  Hemisphere,  and  that  influence,  gently  and 
tactfully  used,  may  be  of  incalculable  service  to  mankind. 

The  matters  in  which  these  republics  are  wont  to 
imitate  or  draw  lessons  from  the  United  States  are 
education,  especially  scientific  and  technical  education, 
and  engineering.  Of  the  influence  upon  their  constitu- 
tions of  the  North  American  Federal  Constitution  I 
have  already  spoken.  Their  publicists  continue  to 
follow  with  attention  the  decisions  given  upon  the 
application  of  its  principles  to  new  conditions  as  they 
arise,  and  attach  value  to  the  opinions  of  North  Ameri- 
can international  jurists.  Otherwise,  there  is  little 
intellectual  affinity,  and  still  less  temperamental  sym- 
pathy. The  South  Americans  do  not  feel  that  the 
name  “American”  involves  any  closer  community  or 
co-operation  with  the  great  Teutonic  republic  of  the 
north  than  it  does  with  any  other  people  or  peoples. 
They  are  just  as  much  a race  or  group  of  peoples  stand- 
ing by  themselves  as  if  the  lands  they  occupy  had 
been  that  entirely  detached  continent  out  in  the  southern 
seas,  supposed  to  lie  far  away  from  all  other  continents, 
to  which  the  name  of  Amerigo  Vespucci  was  first  applied. 

With  whom,  then,  have  the  Spanish  Americans  real 
affinities  of  mental  and  moral  constitution  ? With  the 
peoples  of  southern  Europe.  If  anyone  likes  to  call 
them  the  “ Latin  ” peoples,1  there  is  no  harm  in  the  term 

1 In  the  days  when  Louis  Napoleon  was  trying  to  establish  for 
France  a hegemony  over  the  Romance-speaking  peoples  of  Europe, 
the  days  when  his  Life  of  Julius  Ccesar  was  published  and  his  expe- 
dition to  Mexico  despatched,  this  term  first  came  into  common  use. 
It  was  the  fashion  for  his  literary  court  to  represent  the  French 
people  as  the  heirs  of  ancient  Rome,  the  modern  perpetuator  of  her 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


513 


so  long  as  it  does  not  seem  to  ignore  the  fact  that  there 
exist  the  greatest  differences  between  Italians  and 
Frenchmen  and  Spaniards,  for  whoever  has  studied 
the  history  and  the  literature  of  those  peoples  knows 
that  it  is  only  the  existence  of  still  more  marked  differ- 
ences between  them  and  the  Teutonic  peoples  that 
makes  them  seem  to  resemble  one  another. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  relations  of  the  Spanish 
Americans  would  be  most  close  with  their  motherland, 
Old  Spain.  But  these  relations  are  not  intimate,  and 
have  never  been  so  since  the  War  of  Independence. 
Even  in  those  old  colonial  days  when  the  ports  were 
closed  to  all  but  Spanish  vessels,  in  order  to  stop  all 
trade,  export  and  import,  except  with  the  mother  coun- 
try, the  days  when  Englishmen  and  Dutchmen  were  de- 
tested as  heretics,  and  Frenchmen  as  dangerous  rivals, 
there  was  an  undercurrent  of  anti-Spanish  feeling.  It 
was  chiefly  due  to  the  practice  of  reserving  all  well- 
paid  posts  for  natives  of  Spain.  The  criollos,  as  they 
were  called,  men  born  in  the  colonies,  were  naturally 
envious  of  the  strangers,  and  resented  their  own  ex- 
clusion and  disparagement.  They  suffered  in  many 
ways,  economic  as  well  as  sentimental,  both  from  laws 
issued  in  Spain  and  from  authority  exercised  on  the  spot 
by  men  from  Europe  who  did  not  share  their  sentiments, 
treated  them  as  socially  inferior,  and  flouted  their  local 

spirit  and  her  greatness.  Yet  in  reality  the  character  and  the 
conduct  of  the  English  government  during  the  eighteenth  and  nine- 
teenth centuries  bear  a closer  resemblance  than  ever  did  the  French, 
both  in  their  strong  and  in  their  weak  points,  to  the  government  of 
the  Roman  republic. 

2 L 


514 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


opinion.  Accordingly,  when  the  separation  came,  there 
was  less  sense  of  the  breaking  of  a family  tie  than  there 
had  been  among  the  North  American  colonists  in  the 
earlier  stages  of  their  revolution.  This  antagonism  to 
Spanish  government  was,  of  course,  accentuated  and 
envenomed  by  the  long  duration  of  the  struggle  for 
independence,  which  in  Peru  lasted  for  fifteen  years,  and 
in  the  course  of  which  many  severities  were  exercised 
by  the  governors  and  generals  who  fought  for  the  Crown. 
As  for  the  Indians,  the  oppressions  they  suffered  and  the 
memory  of  the  hideous  cruelties  with  which  the  rebel- 
lion of  Tupac  Amaru  was  suppressed,  made  the  name 
of  Spain  hateful  to  them.  After  the  flag  of  Castile  had 
ceased  to  fly  anywhere  on  the  continent,  and  the  last 
Spanish  officials  had  departed,  there  were  few  occasions 
for  communication  of  any  kind.  Spain  herself  was  in 
a depressed  and  distracted  state  for  many  years  after 
1825.  There  is  to-day  little  trade  between  her  and 
the  New  World,  nor  is  there,  except  to  Mexico  and 
Argentina,  any  large  Spanish  immigration.  Where 
it  does  exist,  it  is  valued,  for  the  men  who  come  from 
northern  Spain  (as  most  settlers  do)  are  of  excellent 
quality. 

Family  ties  between  colonists  and  the  motherland 
had,  moreover,  become  few  or  loose.  Seldom  in  Span- 
ish America  does  one  hear  anyone  speak  of  the  place 
his  ancestors  came  from,  as  one  constantly  hears  North 
Americans  talk  of  the  English  village  where  are  the 
graves  of  their  forefathers.  Seldom  do  South  Americans 
or  Mexicans  seem  to  visit  Spain,  either  to  see  her  an- 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


515 


cient  cities  and  her  superb  pictures  or  to  study  her  pres- 
ent economic  problems.  They  do  not  feel  as  if  they 
had  much  to  learn  from  her  governmental  methods, 
and  her  modern  literature  has  apparently  little  message 
for  them.  For  the  Spanish  Americans  there  seems  to 
be  no  Past  at  all  earlier  than  their  own  War  of  Inde- 
pendence. In  all  these  respects  the  contrast  between 
the  position  of  Spain  towards  South  America  and  that 
of  Britain  towards  North  America  strikes  an  English- 
man with  surprise.  If  that  revival  in  Spanish  litera- 
ture and  art,  of  which  there  have  recently  been  signs, 
should  continue,  and  if  Spanish  commerce  should  de- 
velop, the  position  may  change,  for  the  tie  of  language 
will  always  have  its  importance. 

I may  add  in  this  connection  that  among  the  edu- 
cated classes  of  Spanish  America  one  finds  few  signs  of 
that  sort  of  interest  in  the  history  of  Old  Spain  which 
the  best  North  Americans  take  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
land. The  former  have  no  link  of  free  institutions 
brought  from  the  old  soil  to  flourish  in  a new  one.  Is 
it  because  the  Conquistadores  were  Spaniards,  or  be- 
cause many  of  their  deeds  shock  modern  consciences, 
or  because  it  is  felt  that  to  honour  them  would  be  an 
offence  to  Indian  sentiment,  faint  as  that  sentiment  is 
in  Mexico  and  still  fainter  in  Peru,  that  there  are  in 
Spanish  America  no  statues  or  other  honorific  memo- 
rials of  these  brilliant  and  terrible  figures?  Even  the 
statue  of  Queen  Isabella  the  Catholic,  which  stood  in 
Havana,  was  shipped  back  to  Spain  after  the  inde- 
pendence of  Cuba  had  been  declared  in  1898.  There 


516 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


is  no  monument  to  Cortes  in  Mexico,  nor  to  Pizarro  in 
Lima,  nor  (so  far  as  I know)  any  statue  of  any  of  his 
companions  except  one  of  Pedro  de  Valdivia,  set  up  on 
the  hill  of  Santa  Lucia  in  Santiago,  where  he  built  his 
fort  and  founded  the  capital  of  Chile.  On  the  other 
hand,  Cuahtemoc  or  Guatemozin,  the  last  of  the  Aztec 
kings,1  has  a fine  statue  in  the  park  that  lies  between 
the  city  of  Mexico  and  the  castle  palace  of  Chapultepec, 
and  the  name  of  Caupolican,  the  Araucanian  chieftain 
whom  the  Spaniards  shot  to  death  with  arrows,  like  St. 
Sebastian,  is  about  to  be  commemorated  by  a chari- 
table foundation  at  Temuco  in  Chile. 

Between  Italy  and  Latin  America  there  never  were 
any  direct  relations  except,  of  course,  ecclesiastical  rela- 
tions with  Rome,  until  in  recent  years  Italian  immigrants 
began  to  pour  into  Argentina  and  southern  Brazil.  As 
many  of  these  go  backwards  and  forwards,  and  as  swift 
lines  of  ocean  steamers  have  been  established  between 
Buenos  Aires  and  the  ports  of  Italy,  there  is  now  a good 
deal  of  intercourse,  but  this  has  not  so  far  led  to  any 
closer  connection  either  political  or  intellectual.  The 
Italian  immigrants  belong  almost  entirely  to  the  scantily 
educated  classes,  and  have  brought  with  them  little  that 
is  Italian  except  their  language  and  their  habits  of  in- 
dustry. If,  however,  the  Italians,  who,  in  Argentina,  are 
now  nearly  one-third  of  the  population,  do  not  too 
quickly  lose  their  language  and  become  assimilated  to 
the  native  Argentines,  these  people  may  not  only  form 
an  intellectual  link  between  their  old  home  and  their  new 
1 Cortes  tortured  him  to  compel  the  disclosure  of  treasure. 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


517 


one,  but  may  give  an  impetus  to  the  progress  of  art  and 
music,  perhaps  of  literature  also. 

With  England  and  Germany  the  commercial  relations 
of  most  of  the  South  American  countries  are  close  and 
constant.  Nearly  £300,000,000  sterling  of  British 
capital  ($1,500,000,000)  have  been  invested  in  railroads 
and  otherwise  in  Argentina  alone,  besides  very  large 
sums  in  Uruguay,  Brazil,  and  some  of  the  lesser  coun- 
tries. Many  Englishmen  own  ranches  or  farms  in 
Argentina.  Germans  have  done  less  in  railroad  con- 
struction and  in  the  acquisition  of  landed  properties, 
but  they  run  lines  of  ocean  steamers,  and  a great  part 
of  the  commerce  of  the  more  progressive  republics  is 
now  in  their  hands.  They  take  more  pains  than  do  the 
English  to  master  Spanish  and  understand  the  customs 
of  the  land.  The  German  army  and  its  arrangements 
are  taken  as  a model  for  South  American  ministers  and 
officers  to  follow,  and  a like  deference  is  paid  to  the 
British  navy  and  its  methods.  Upon  thought  and  art 
and  taste,  however,  neither  of  these  countries  exerts 
much  influence.  Though  a certain  number  of  Argen- 
tines, Chileans,  and  Brazilians  can  read  English  and 
a smaller  number  German,  and  though  statesmen  and 
serious  students  appreciate  the  English  political  system 
and  the  German  administrative  system,  and  follow  the 
scientific  work  done  in  both  countries,  books  in  these 
languages  are  not  widely  read.  The  members  of  the 
English  and  German  colonies  in  seaports  like  Buenos 
Aires,  Montevideo,  Rio,  and  Valparaiso  are  personally 
liked  and  respected,  but  they  have  not  done  much  to 


518 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


popularize  the  ideas  and  habits  and  tastes  of  their  coun- 
tries. The  mental  quality  and  the  views  of  life  are 
essentially  dissimilar.  Between  the  peoples,  there  is 
little  more  than  reciprocal  good-will  and  what  Thomas 
Carlyle  calls  the  “cash  nexus.”  English  fashions  are, 
however,  followed  in  horse-racing  and  other  branches 
of  sport. 

There  remains  France.  Her  influence  may  be  traced 
to  several  causes.  Though  the  North  American  Revo- 
lution of  1775-1783  had  suggested  to  the  Spanish  Amer- 
icans the  idea  of  separation  from  their  mother  country, 
the  French  Revolution  of  1789-1799  stirred  their  minds 
more  deeply,  and  the  literature  produced  in  France,  both 
before  and  during  those  years  and  still  later,  was  the 
strongest  and  most  novel  intellectual  force  that  had  ever 
fallen  on  these  previously  backward  countries,  as  well  as 
upon  those  few  colonists  who  visited  Europe  in  the  end 
of  the  eighteenth  century.  Severed  by  a violent  shock 
from  Spain,  the  Spanish  Americans  must  needs  turn 
elsewhere.  French  had  for  a century  been  the  one 
foreign  language  which  was  learnt  by  men  who  learnt 
any  foreign  language.  Whoever  travelled  to  Europe 
needed  it  and  the  similarity  of  its  vocabulary  to  their 
own  made  it  easier  for  them  than  any  Teutonic  tongue. 
With  England  there  was  in  those  days  very  little  in- 
tercourse, with  Germany  and  the  United  States  still  less, 
for  commerce  was  insignificant.  Thus  French  estab- 
lished itself  as  what  might  be  called  the  gateway  to 
European  thought.  French  literature  has,  moreover,  a 
double  attraction  for  the  South  Americans,  including 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


519 


the  Brazilians.  It  gratifies  their  fondness  for  graceful 
and  pointed  and  rhetorical  expression.  Spaniards,  like 
Frenchmen,  love  style,  and  French  style  has  for  them  a 
peculiar  charm.  With  a great  liking  for  what  they  call 
“general  ideas”  they  set  less  store  by  an  accumulation 
of  facts  and  an  elaborate  examination  of  them  than  do  the 
Germans  or  the  English,  and  prefer  what  may  be  called 
the  French  way  of  treating  a subject.  In  short,  they 
have  an  intellectual  affinity  for  France,  for  the  bright- 
ness of  her  ideas,  the  gaiety  of  her  spirit,  the  finish 
of  her  literary  methods,  the  quality  of  her  sentiment. 

Then  there  is  Paris.  When  South  Americans  began 
to  be  rich  enough  to  travel  to  Europe  and  enjoy  them- 
selves there,  Paris  became  the  Mecca  of  these  pilgrims 
of  pleasure.  Many  a wealthy  Argentine  landowner, 
many  a Brazilian  coffee  planter,  every  dictator  of  a 
Caribbean  republic  who,  like  Guzman  Blanco  of  Vene- 
zuela, has  drawn  from  the  public  revenues  funds  to  in- 
vest in  European  securities,  goes  to  the  metropolis  of 
fashion  and  amusement  to  spend  his  fortune  there. 
All  the  young  literary  men,  all  the  young  artists  who 
can  afford  the  journey,  flock  thither.  There  is  a large 
South  American  colony  in  Paris,  and  through  it,  as 
well  as  through  books  and  magazines,  the  French  drama 
and  art,  French  ideas  and  tastes  dominate  both  the 
fashionable  and  the  intellectual  world  in  the  cities  of 
South  America.  The  writers  of  France  have  often 
claimed  that  there  is  something  in  the  “French  spirit,” 
in  their  way  of  thinking  and  their  way  of  expressing 
thought,  which,  distinctive  of  themselves  as  it  is,  has, 


520 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


nevertheless,  a sort  of  universality,  or  an  adaptability 
to  the  minds  of  all  men,  that  has  more  than  once  in 
history  given  it  an  empire  such  as  no  other  modern 
literature  has  enjoyed.  In  and  for  South  America 
this  claim  has  been  made  good,  for  here  French  influ- 
ence reigns  supreme. 

All  this  has,  of  course,  no  more  to  do  with  the  political 
relations  of  these  republics  to  foreign  powers  than  has 
the  ownership  of  Argentine  railways  by  British  share- 
holders. But  it  is  a further  illustration  of  the  fact 
that  South  America  has  nothing  in  common  with  Teu- 
tonic North  America  beyond  the  name  and  the  form 
(in  some  countries  an  empty  form)  of  institutions  called 
republican.  She  is  much  nearer  to  being  an  Ibero- 
Celtic  West  European  group  of  nations,  planted  far  out 
in  the  midst  of  southern  seas. 

But  can  the  South  Americans  really  be  classed 
among  south  or  west  European  peoples?  May  they 
not  be  — if  one  can  speak  of  them  as  a whole,  ignor- 
ing the  differences  between  Chileans,  Argentines,  and 
Brazilians  — a new  thing  in  the  world,  a racial  group 
with  a character  all  its  own  ? 

This  is  their  own  view  of  themselves.  It  would  need 
more  knowledge  than  I possess  either  to  deny  or  to  affirm 
it.  They  are  all,  except  Argentines  and  Uruguayans, 
largely  Indian  or  (in  Brazil)  African  in  blood.  Even 
the  Uruguayans  and  Argentines  strike  one  as  differing  at 
least  as  much  from  Spaniards  as  North  Americans  differ 
from  Englishmen.  They  give  the  impression  of  being 
still  nations  in  the  making,  whose  type  or  types,  both 


THE  TWO  AMERICAS 


521 


the  common  type  of  all  Spanish  America  and  the  special 
types  of  each  nation,  will  grow  more  sharp  and  definite 
as  the  years  roll  on  and  as  life  becomes  for  them  more 
rich  and  more  intense. 

When  this  happens  and  the  world  of  a.d.  2000  rec- 
ognizes a definite  South  American  type  (or  types), 
may  there  be  thence  expected  any  distinctively  new 
contribution  to  the  world’s  stock  of  thought,  of  litera- 
ture, of  art  ? Each  nation  is  in  the  long  run  judged  and 
valued  by  the  rest  of  the  world  more  for  such  contribu- 
tions than  for  anything  else.  There  is  a sense  in  which 
Shakespeare  is  a greater  glory  to  England  than  the  em- 
pire of  India.  Homer  and  Virgil,  Plato  and  Tacitus 
are  a gift  made  by  the  ancient  world  to  all  the  ages, 
more  precious,  because  more  enduring,  than  any  achieve- 
ments in  war,  or  government,  or  commerce.  The  op- 
portunities for  the  growing  up  of  new  nations  with 
creative  gifts  specifically  their  own  seem  to  be  getting 
few  because  the  world  is  getting  full ; there  is  no  more 
room  for  new  nations. 

That  there  is  vitality  and  virility  in  the  Spanish- 
American  peoples  appears  from  the  number  of  strong, 
bold,  forceful  men  who  have  figured  in  their  history, 
including  one  the  Mexican  Juarez,  of  pure,  and  many 
of  mixed,  Indian  blood.  Few,  indeed,  have  shewn  that 
higher  kind  of  greatness  which  lies  in  the  union  of  large 
constructive  ideas  with  decisive  energy  in  action,  the 
Napoleonic  or  Bismarckian  gift.  In  most  of  the  re- 
publics, political  conditions  have  been  so  unstable  as  to 
give  little  scope  for  constructive  statesmanship.  Still 


522 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


there  is  no  want  of  vigour,  and  it  is  something  to  have 
produced  in  San  Martin  one  truly  heroic  figure  in  whom 
brilliant  military  and  political  talents  were  united  to  a 
lofty  and  disinterested  character. 

/> 

If  Latin  America  has  not  yet  produced  any  thinker 
or  poet  or  artist  even  of  the  second  rank,  this  will  not 
surprise  anyone  who  knows  what  was  her  condition 
before  the  War  of  Independence  and  what  it  has  been 
from  that  time  till  recent  years.  Could  any  one  of  those 
ancient  sages  whom  Dante  heard  in  Limbo,  speaking 
with  voices  sweet  and  soft,  have  been  brought  back  to 
earth  and  permitted  to  survey  Europe  as  it  was  in  the 
welter  of  the  tenth  century,  such  an  one  might  have 
thought  that  art  and  letters,  as  well  as  freedom  and 
order,  had  forever  vanished  from  the  earth.  Yet  out 
of  that  welter  what  glories  of  art  and  letters  were  to 


arise. 


CHAPTER  XV 


THE  CONDITIONS  OF  POLITICAL  LIFE  IN  SPANISH 
AMERICA 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  describe  or  discuss  either 
the  political  institutions  or  the  practical  politics  of  the 
South  American  states.  Even  with  a fuller  knowledge 
of  them  than  I was  able  to  acquire  in  the  short  time 
at  my  disposal  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  me  to 
treat  of  them  with  the  requisite  freedom.  But  that 
which  a traveller  who  has  been  the  recipient  of  many 
courtesies  may  do  without  offence,  and  that  which 
even  a limited  knowledge  may  qualify  him  to  do, 
is  to  present  a summary  account  of  those  physical, 
economic,  and  social  features  of  the  South  American 
countries  which  are  the  basis  of  its  political  life,  and 
constitute  the  conditions  under  which  that  life  has  to 
be  carried  on.  Whoever  has  seen  and  understands 
these,  realizing  how  altogether  different  they  are  from 
those  of  any  European  country,  will  find  himself  able 
I to  judge  the  troubled  history  and  the  present  pros- 
pects of  these  states  more  fairly  than  those  can  do  who 
apply  to  them  a West  European  or  a North  American 
standard.  The  maxim,  “To  comprehend  everything  is 
to  pardon  everything,”  goes  too  far,  but  such  truth  as 
belongs  to  it  is  eminently  applicable  to  these  countries. 
One  must  know  their  conditions  before  attempting  to 
pass  judgment  on  their  defects. 

523 


524 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


When  republican  governments  sprang  up  on  Central 
and  South  American  soil  as  the  authority  of  Spain  was 
slowly  swept  away  from  one  region  after  another,  those 
governments  were  eagerly  welcomed  by  European  Lib- 
erals and  still  more  effusively  acclaimed  by  the  people  of 
the  United  States.  The  latter  found  in  them  a double 
source  of  satisfaction.  Their  appearance  meant  the  dis- 
appearance of  an  old  enemy,  and  their  democratic  institu- 
tions were  a tribute  of  imitation  to  the  success  of  popular 
government  in  the  United  States,  where  people  still  be- 
lieved that  there  could  be  no  freedom  under  a monarchy. 
Though  this  sympathy  of  the  North  Americans  long 
continued  to  be  extended  to  the  new  republics,  espe- 
cially when  they  came  into  collision  with  any  European 
power,  the  friends  of  freedom  in  Europe  presently 
lost  interest  in  communities  which  were  not  reflecting 
credit  upon  democracy ; and  European  writers  of  the 
opposite  school  soon  began  to  point  to  them  as  shocking 
examples  of  liberty  that  had  degenerated  into  license  and 
violence.  The  last  Spanish  troops  left  the  American 
continent  in  1826.  Decade  after  decade  passed  with 
no  signs  of  improvement.  Revolutions  and  dictators 
succeeded  one  another  so  quickly,  and  seemed  to  mean 
so  little,  that  after  a while  the  only  Europeans  who 
followed  the  fortunes  of  South  America  were  the  bond- 
holders whose  loans  remained  unpaid.  The  financial 
credit  as  well  as  the  political  character  of  the  new  states 
fell  very  low.  Newspapers  ridiculed  them.  Conserva- 
tive statesmen  and  cloistered  political  philosophers 
drew  warnings  from  them.  Sir  Henry  Maine,  one  of 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


525 


the  most  brilliant  writers  of  the  last  generation,  in  his 
ingenious,  but  elusive  and  unsatisfying,  book  on  Popular 
Government,  whenever  he  seeks  to  supply  a link  or 
point  an  epigram  in  his  long  indictment  of  democracy, 
constantly  refers  to  the  South  American  republics 
as  instances  of  its  failure  in  this  or  that  respect.  Yet 
such  a line  of  argument  is  really  no  more  legitimate 
than  that  of  the  enthusiastic  North  Americans  who 
were  prepared  to  defend  the  government  of  any  South 
American  country  that  called  itself  a republic.  Both 
the  assailant  and  the  apologist  looked  only  at  the 
name,  and  did  not  stop  to  enquire  into  the  thing.  Sir 
Henry  Maine’s  reasonings  were  valid  against  those 
who  held,  as  did  the  North  Americans,  that  the  name  of 
republic  is  enough  to  ensure  good  government,  but  valid 
against  them  only.  There  are  always  people  ready  to 
assume  that  things  are  what  they  are  called,  because 
it  is  much  easier  to  deal  with  names  than  to  examine 
facts.  Paraguay  under  the  military  tyrannies  of  Francia 
and  the  elder  and  younger  Lopez  was  called  a republic 
and  had  a republican  constitution.1  The  same  was  true 
of  Venezuela  under  the  tyrannies  of  Guzman  Blanco  and 
of  Castro.  Were  Paraguay  and  Venezuela,  therefore, 
true  republics,  entitled  to  the  sympathy  which  democrats 
give  to  “governments  deriving  their  just  powers  from 
the  consent  of  the  governed”?  If  they  were,  then 
arguments  drawn  from  the  misdeeds  of  Lopez  and 
Castro  are  good  arguments  against  the  champions  of 
republican  or  democratic  government.  If  they  were 
1 Though  Francia  had  been  created  dictator  for  life. 


526 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


not,  then  the  sympathy  felt  by  North  Americans  for 
these  so-called  republics  is  groundless,  and  the  incidents 
of  their  history  prove  nothing  either  for  or  against  de- 
mocracy. It  is  a mere  question  of  names,  an,d  not  of 
things. 

Throwing  names  aside,  let  us  go  to  the  facts.  I shall 
have  to  speak  of  these  states  as  republics,  because  they 
are  so  called,  but  the  term  is  meant  not  to  describe, 
but  only  to  denote.  Europeans  have  been  wont  until 
lately  to  lump  all  of  them  in  a general  condemna- 
tion. That  was  always  unjust,  and  is  still  more  unjust 
now  than  it  was  formerly.  There  is  as  great  a differ- 
ence between  the  best  and  the  worst  of  them  as  there 
is  between  the  best  and  the  worst  of  European  monar- 
chies. Some  of  them  are  true  republics  in  the  European 
sense,  countries  in  which  the  constitutional  machinery  is 
a reality  and  not  a sham.  Others  are  petty  despotisms, 
created  and  maintained  by  military  force.  In  the  fairly 
large  class  which  lies  between  these  two  groups,  the 
machinery  works,  but  more  or  less  irregularly  and  im- 
perfectly. The  legislature  has  some  influence  as  an  ex- 
pression of  public  opinion ; the  rights  of  individuals  to 
personal  safety  and  to  property  receive  some  respect ; the 
application  and  enforcement  of  the  law,  though  uncertain, 
are  not  subjected  to  the  arbitrary  will  of  the  executive. 

To  enquire  into  the  causes  which  have  determined 
the  history  of  the  Spanish- American  states  as  a whole, 
and  prevented  them  from  realizing  the  hopes  that 
gilded  their  birth  ninety  years  ago,  would  be  a long  and 
serious  undertaking,  too  large  for  this  book.  What 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


527 


may,  however,  be  done  concisely  is  to  indicate  the  con- 
ditions under  which  independent  political  life  had  to 
begin  in  the  lands  that  had  thrown  off  the  dominion 
of  Spain.  I will  place  these  conditions  in  five  classes : — 

I.  Physical  or  geographical  conditions. 

II.  Racial  conditions. 

III.  Economic  and  social  conditions. 

IV.  Historical  conditions  belonging  to  the  Colonial 
period. 

V.  Historical  conditions  attending  the  struggle  for 
independence. 

I.  Physical  Conditions.  — In  nearly  all  the  republics 
the  population  was  and  is  small  in  proportion  to  the  area, 
and  in  most  of  them  communication  across  this  thinly 
peopled  area  is  hindered  by  mountains  or  deserts  or 
forests.  Colombia,  for  instance,  with  a territory  of 
435,000  square  miles  (more  than  twice  the  size  of 
France)  has  only  ten  persons  to  the  square  mile  (whereas 
France  has  nearly  two  hundred),  and  is  so  intersected  by 
lofty  and  heavily  wooded  ranges  that  most  parts  of  it  are 
accessible  only  by  long  and  difficult  journeys  along  mule 
paths.  Bolivia,  three  times  the  size  of  France,  has  only 
three  and  a half  persons  to  the  square  mile,  and  its  few 
towns,  only  one  of  which  has  more  than  twenty-five 
thousand  inhabitants,  are  separated  by  long  spaces  of 
wilderness.  Peru  is  cut  up  by  the  numerous  chains  of 
the  Andes  into  narrow  valleys,  each  of  which  has  little 
intercourse  with  the  others.  In  such  countries  — and 
this  applies  to  nearly  all  of  them  — there  is,  and  there 
can  be,  very  little  public  opinion  common  to  the  nation, 


528 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


because  the  means  of  intercommunication  are  defective 
and  slow.  Officials  representing  the  central  government 
cannot  easily  be  supervised  or  controlled.  When  local 
discontent  exists,  it  may  find  no  constitutional  vent, 
because  the  legislature  is  distant  and  cannot  be  got  to 
understand  the  situation.  When  a revolt  breaks  out, 
it  may  spread  fast,  and  become  formidable  before  any 
adequate  force  can  be  collected  and  despatched  to 
the  spot  to  suppress  it.  All  these  conditions  also 
prevent  the  growth  of  a press  capable  of  inform- 
ing and  aiding  the  growth  of  opinion.  Nothing  but 
an  efficient  system  of  popular  local  self-government 
could  secure  good  administration  under  such  conditions, 
and  the  rule  of  such  a public  opinion  as  England  and 
the  United  States  possess  becomes  almost  impossible, 
because  people  know  little  either  of  one  another,  or  of 
current  questions,  or  of  the  conduct  of  their  representa- 
tives sent  to  the  capital.  Patriotism  there  may  be,  and 
passion  may  be  excited  far  and  wide  over  the  country  by 
some  event  touching  the  honour  or  the  supposed  inter- 
est of  the  nation,  but  there  can  hardly  be  that  con- 
trolling influence  of  the  whole  people  which  is  needed  in 
free  governments  to  keep  the  rulers  steady  and  to  im- 
press upon  them  a sense  of  responsibility. 

II.  Racial  Conditions. — It  has  been  shewn  in  an 
earlier  chapter  that  in  all  the  republics,  except 
Argentina  and  Uruguay,  the  native  Indians  and 
the  mestizos  form  a large  element  in  the  population. 
In  Peru,  Bolivia,  Ecuador,  and  Paraguay,  the  pure 
Indians  are  a majority  of  the  whole.  In  Chile  the 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


529 


poorer  class  is  practically  all  mestizo;  in  Venezuela  and 
Colombia  and  Panama,  there  are  few  pure  Europeans. 
Speaking  little  or  no  Spanish,  the  Indians  constitute  a 
practically  distinct  nation.  They  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  white  people,  except  in  so  far  as  they  pay  rent 
or  work  for  employers.  By  the  constitution  they  are, 
in  many  states,  citizens  and  have  votes.  But  they 
have  never  heard  of  the  constitution  and  they  never 
think  of  voting,  having,  although  free,  no  more  to  do 
with  the  government  than  the  slaves  had  in  the  south- 
ern United  States  before  the  Civil  War. 

Bolivia,  though  its  population  is  not  so  preponderat- 
ing^ aboriginal  as  that  of  Paraguay,  furnishes  a good 
instance.  The  Indians,  mostly  Aymaras,  are  either 
tillers  of  the  soil,  or  engaged  in  the  transportation  of 
goods  by  mule  or  llama,  or  are  artisans  of  the  ruder 
sort.  They  are  entirely  illiterate.  Nominally  Catho- 
lics, their  religion  is  the  primitive  spirit  worship  of 
their  ancestors  with  a varnish  of  Christian  forms  and 
the  cult  of  Christian  saints.  Politics  are  left  entirely 
to  a few  Spaniards  and  mestizos  living  in  four  or  five 
towns,  each  of  which,  in  default  of  a common  inter- 
est and  general  public  opinion,  is  obliged  to  try  to 
get  as  much  as  it  can  for  itself.  Thus,  politically  re- 
garded, the  Bolivian  nation  of  two  millions  shrinks  to 
some  thousands.  A few  thousands  gathered  into  one 
city  may  give  a vigorous  life  to  a genuine  republic,  as 
happened  in  many  a city  of  ancient  Greece  and  mediae- 
val Italy;  but  where  citizens  are  scattered  over  many 
thousands  of  square  miles,  without  railways  to  bring 


530 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


them  together  and  newspapers  to  convey  the  ideas  of 
each  group  to  the  other,  democratic  government 
becomes  scarcely  possible.  What  all  sections  of  such 
a population  can  do  is  to  fight,  for  defects  that  unfit 
them  to  be  voters  do  not  unfit  them  to  be  'soldiers. 
The  aboriginal  races  of  the  central  and  northern 
Andes  have  not  that  love  of  fighting  for  its  own 
sake  which  the  Aztecs  or  the  Araucanians  had. 
But  they  have  little  fear  of  death  and  can  be  readily 
forced  or  tempted  to  swell  the  forces  of  a revolting 
general.  Although  in’  Venezuela,  Colombia,  and  Pan- 
ama, the  proportion  of  whites  and  mestizos  is  larger, 
the  general  result  is  the  same,  for  the  vast  majority 
of  the  people  are  illiterate  and  qualified  only  for  the 
fighting  side  of  public  life.1 

Some  may  conceive  that  the  racial  facts  of  the  coun- 
try are  unfavourable  in  a further  way.  That  an  ad- 
mixture of  the  blood  of  a backward  race  must  injure 
the  white  element,  is  a view  which  suggests  itself  nat- 
urally to  European  pride.  There  are  even  persons  who 
assume  that  the  Indo-European  or  so-called  Aryan  races 
are  superior  to  others  — a gratuitous  assumption,  for 
there  are  three  non- Aryan  races  in  Europe,  the  average 
members  of  which  are  equal  in  talent  and  character  to 
the  average  members  of  the  other  peoples  among  whom 
they  dwell.2  It  is,  of  course,  possible  that  the  Spanish 
race  has  suffered  by  intermarriage  with  Indians,  but 


1 The  wild  tribal  Indians,  Indios  bravos,  have,  of  course,  no  votes. 

2 The  Magyars  of  Hungary,  the  Finns  of  Finland,  and  the 
Basques  of  the  western  Pyrenees. 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


531 


who  can  tell  how  much  of  the  difference  between  the 
Spaniards  of  Old  Spain  and  those  of  Peru  or  Venezuela 
is  due  to  blood,  how  much  to  climatic  and  other  local 
conditions  ? One  high  Chilean  authority  thinks  his 
countrymen  all  the  better  for  having  reinforced  their 
stock  from  the  hardy  Indians  of  the  south.1 

There  are  also  those  who  carry  race  disparagement 
still  further  and  hold  that  the  Spanish  or  "Iberian” 
races  are  unfitted  for  constitutional  government,  in 
company,  it  would  appear,  with  the  Celtic  and  Slavonic 
and  all  others  except  the  favoured  Teutons.  This 
doctrine  is  not  worth  discussing,  because  it  cannot  be 
brought  to  any  test  of  history,  and  it  is  history  alone 
that  enables  us  to  test  such  theories.  The  collapse  in  the 
sixteenth  century  of  that  free  constitutional  govern- 
ment for  which  there  seemed  at  one  time  to  be  almost 
as  good  a chance  in  Spain  as  there  was  in  contemporary 
England,  can  be  explained  by  causes  altogether  irre- 
spective of  race.  It  is  not  in  the  hypothetical  inferiority 
of  any  pure  or  any  mixed  race  that  the  importance  of 
race  questions  for  South  America  lies,  but  in  the  fact 
that  the  existence  in  the  same  state  of  different  races, 
speaking  different  languages,  prevents  that  homogeneity 
and  solidarity  of  the  community  which  are  almost 
indispensable  conditions  to  the  success  of  democratic 
government.2 

1 Dr.  Palacios  in  his  interesting  book  Raza  Chilena. 

2 Remembering  Switzerland  with  its  three  languages,  one  cannot 
make  the  proposition  absolute.  But  in  Switzerland  the  three  races 
are,  as  respects  intelligence  and  education,  practically  on  a level, 
whereas  in  South  America  the  Indians  stand  far  below. 


532 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


III.  Economic  and  Social  Conditions. — Economic 
phenomena  and  social  phenomena  may  be  considered 
together,  because  the  latter  depend  largely  on  the 
former.  All  the  republics  except  Argentina,  Chile,  and 
Brazil,  of  which  I shall  speak  presently,  are  ptfor  coun- 
tries, not  that  natural  resources  are  wanting,  but  that 
these  have  been  so  imperfectly  developed  as  to  bring 
little  wealth  to  the  native  population.  Almost  the 
only  fortunes  made  in  them  are  made  by  foreigners 
or  foreign  companies  who  have  got  concessions  for 
mines,  or  have  bought  plantations,  because  there 
is  very  little  native  capital  and  not  much  talent  or 
experience  to  work  mines  or  develop  estates.1  The 
land,  it  is  true,  belongs  to  large  proprietors,  but  they 
do  not  form  a class  of  men  who,  having  a common  and 
solid  interest  in  the  country,  constitute  a sort  of  natural 
aristocracy,  concerned  to  preserve  order,  and  make  the 
government  stable.  Similarly,  there  is  only  a small 
native  class  of  substantial  business  men,  with  a like 
interest  in  public  tranquillity  and  good  administra- 
tion. The  want  of  local  capital  has  left  the  larger 
industrial  and  financial  enterprises  to  foreigners.  It  is 
better  that  the  country  should  be  developed  by  foreign 
capital  than  that  it  should  not  be  developed  at  all,  yet 
we  may  regret  that  what  is  gained  in  the  way  of  experi- 
ence as  well  as  of  money  is  not  gained  for  the  people  of 
the  country.  That  which  Europeans  call  a “lower 
middle  class,”  composed  of  shopkeepers  and  skilled 
artisans,  is  small,  and  the  towns  in  which  it  exists 
1 This  was  ceasing,  under  the  rule  of  Diaz,  to  be  true  of  Mexico. 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


533 


are  so  few  and  far  apart  from  one  another,  that  it 
has  been  hitherto  a feeble  political  factor.  Lastly, 
the  agricultural  population  consists  in  some  states 
largely,  in  others  almost  entirely,  of  those  ignorant 
aborigines  who  have  no  sense  of  their  interest  in  prog- 
ress or  good  government.  The  absence  of  that  class 
of  intelligent  small  landowners,  which  is  the  soundest 
and  most  stable  element  in  the  United  States  and  in 
Switzerland,  and  is  equally  stable,  if  less  politically 
trained,  in  France  and  parts  of  Germany,  is  a grave 
misfortune  for  South  and  Central  America.  What 
is  wanting  in  these  countries  is  a sufficient  number  of 
citizens  who  have  no  personal  ends  to  secure,  and  noth- 
ing to  get  out  of  government,  except  good  administra- 
tion, but  whose  interest  in  such  administration  is  in- 
telligent enough  and  strong  enough  to  rouse  them  to 
their  civic  duty.  Public  spirit  and  an  active  participa- 
tion in  public  life  without  the  prospect  of  such  private 
gains  as  professional  politicians  make  out  of  politics,  — 
that  and  nothing  else  is  what  provides  in  every  country 
the  public  opinion  needed  to  guide  and  control  the  ruling 
authorities  of  a state. 

It  may  be  said  that  nowhere  in  the  world  can  we 
expect  ideal  conditions  for  popular  governments.  Such 
governments  have  existed  and  have  attained  credit- 
able results  in  countries  where  both  physical  condi- 
tions and  racial  conditions  might  have  seemed  unfa- 
vourable, because  the  people  possessed  the  gifts  and  the 
training  that  enable  the  rule  of  the  people  to  succeed. 

Admitting  this  to  be  true,  it  raises  the  question 


534 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


whether  those  who  were  summoned  to  govern  the  new 
republics  that  emerged  from  the  War  of  Independence 
did  possess,  and  could  have  been  expected  to  possess, 
the  requisite  gifts  and  the  training.  Such  gifts  are 
not  natural.  They  are  the  result  of  a peopled  previous 
career  and  of  experience  gained  therein.  What,  then, 
had  been  the  history  of  the  colonial  dominion  of  Spain 
and  what  sort  of  practice  in  government  had  the  Crown 
allowed  to  its  Spanish- American  subjects  ? 

This  brings  us  to  a fourth  branch  of  the  enquiry,  — 
viz. : — 

IV.  Historical  Conditions  during  the  Colonial  Period. 
— The  Spanish  Conquerors  of  the  New  World  were  men 
of  extraordinary  audacity  and  energy.  No  such  for- 
cible individualities  had  been  seen  in  the  world  since 
the  Norsemen  of  the  tenth  century  and  their  children, 
the  Normans,  of  the  eleventh.  They  were,  however, 
loyally  submissive  to  the  Spanish  Crown  and  never 
thought  of  asking  for,  or  of  setting  up  for  themselves, 
any  self-governing  institutions.  Neither  did  the  Span- 
ish Crown  ever  think  of  granting  such  institutions, 
Those  which  existed  in  Castile  had  just  disappeared ; 
but  even  had  they  continued,  it  is  improbable  that  any 
idea  of  reproducing  them  in  the  colonies  would  have 
been  entertained.  The  English  Crown  granted  char- 
ters to  the  companies  which  undertook  colonization 
in  North  America,  and  the  settlers  themselves  were  soon 
organized  by  counties  in  Virginia,  by  townships  and 
counties  in  Massachusetts  and  Connecticut.  Forms 
of  local  self-government  more  effective  than  those  which 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


535 


then  existed  in  England  were  in  full  working  order  in 
those  colonies,  all  through  the  eighteenth  century,  until 
they  separated  from  the  mother  country.  But  every- 
where in  Spanish  America  the  authority  of  the  viceroy, 
or  captain-general,  or  Audiencia  and  their  subordinate 
officers,  was  paramount,  and  covered  the  whole  field. 
There  were  no  elected  assemblies  or  elected  officials.  All 
power  came  from  above;  the  people  had  nothing  to  do 
with  administration,  and  were  not  enough  permitted  to 
subject  it  to  public  criticism.  The  only  exception  was 
furnished  by  the  sort  of  muncipal  council  in  the  towns 
which  was  called  a Cabildo  or  Ayuntamiento,  and  the 
members  of  which,  while  in  a few  towns  freely  elected 
by  the  householders,  or  perhaps  by  the  more  sub- 
stantial householders,  were  in  others  nominated,  and 
often  nominated  because  they  had  bought  the  nomina- 
tion. The  despotic  power  of  a viceroy  or  other  gov- 
ernor was,  of  course,  restrained  by  the  instructions 
he  received  and  by  the  laws  which  the  Crown  enacted 
for  the  colonies,  and  to  some  extent  also  both  by  the  ec- 
clesiastical magnates  and  by  local  sentiment.  But  there 
were  no  responsibilities  devolved  on  the  people,  and  no 
machinery  in  and  by  which  they  could  acquire  any  train- 
ing in  public  affairs.  In  the  English  North  American 
colonies  the  management  of  church  affairs  belonged  to 
the  laity  as  well  as  to  the  clergy ; and  the  New  England 
Congregational  churches  in  particular,  founded  on  the 
principles  of  liberty,  became  direct  exponents  of  popular 
feeling.  In  the  Spanish  colonies  the  Roman  Church  rep- 
resented the  principle  of  authority,  and  impressed  it  on 


536 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  minds  of  the  laity  by  all  the  sanctions  she  possessed. 
All  books  and  publications  of  every  kind  were  subjected 
to  a searching  ecclesiastical  censorship ; and  the  right 
of  freely  expressing  opinion  either  by  speech  or  in 
writing  was  steadily  denied. 

V.  Historical  Conditions  at  the  Close  of  the  War  of 
Independence. — Thus,  when  the  revolt  from  Spain  threw 
all  power  into  the  hands  of  the  people,  the  people  were 
unfit  to  exercise  it.  It  was  easy  to  frame  constitutions 
modelled  on  that  of  the  United  States.  But  who  were 
the  people  and  what  did  they  know  about  the  working  of 
free  governments  ? What  was  the  capacity  of  the  citi- 
zens whose  votes  were  to  choose  legislatures,  and  of  what 
sort  of  persons  were  the  legislatures  to  be  composed  ? 

Ten  or  twelve  years  of  fighting  against  Spanish  troops, 
years  in  which  there  had  been  many  severities  and  cruel- 
ties perpetrated  on  each  side,  had  accustomed  everybody 
to  violence  and  had  made  soldiers  the  only  leaders. 
Everyone’s  mind  was  full  of  dreams  of  liberty,  but  no  one 
knew  how  to  secure  it  by  coupling  liberty  with  law. 
Even  in  the  United  States  the  first  years  after  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  independence  of  the  thirteen 
colonies  had  been  marked  by  so  many  errors  and  so  much 
legislative  weakness  that  the  constitutional  convention 
of  1787  was  regarded  by  the  wisest  men  of  the  time  as 
a last  chance  for  saving  the  nation.  Yet  the  North 
American  states  were  carrying  on  governments  which 
had  existed  for  several  generations  and  following 
principles  which  their  forefathers  had  established  in 
England  five  centuries  before.  Small  wonder  that 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


537 


among  the  Spanish  Americans,  who  had  no  experience 
at  all  in  the  most  complicated  of  all  human  undertakings, 

— the  conducting  of  government  by  the  will  of  the 
majority,  but  according  to  settled  law  and  with  due 
respect  to  the  rights  of  the  minority,  — small  wonder 
that  legislatures  were  not  honestly  elected,  that,  when 
elected,  they  wasted  time  in  vain  debates  and  neglected 
business,  that  each  party  in  turn  drove  out  its  opponents 
or  cowed  them  by  violence,  that  debts  were  recklessly 
contracted  and  left  unpaid,  that  the  government  re- 
mained one  not  of  laws,  but  of  men,  and  those  men 
mostly  military  adventurers  at  the  head  of  armed 
bands. 

The  inhabitants,  accustomed  to  be  ruled  by  others  in 
State  and  in  Church,  had  never  been  given  a chance  of 
learning  to  think  of  government  as  their  own  business 
nor  of  themselves  as  responsible  for  public  order.  When 
a long  and  sanguinary  war  had  destroyed  the  habit  of 
obedience  to  constituted  authority,  they  were  remitted 

— constitution  or  no  constitution  — to  that  primitive 
state  of  things  in  which  force  prevails.  There  being 
often  either  no  authority  de  iure,  or  one  too  feeble  to 
protect  those  who  appealed  to  it,  authority  de  facto 
had  to  be  recognized,  and  the  notion  of  legal  right  and  le- 
gal duty  vanished.  It  must  be  remembered  that  these 
were  small  and  scattered  communities,  in  each  of  which 
there  were  but  few  men  who  were  at  once  law-abiding 
and  intelligent,  able  to  impose  some  check  on  the  parti- 
sans of  one  or  the  other  of  the  ad  venturers  who  were  fight- 
ing for  power.  The  parties  were  usually  factions  follow- 


538 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ing  the  banner  of  a particular  chief.  Only  one  set  of 
controversies  raising  questions  of  principle  emerged  from 
time  to  time  in  one  republic  or  another,  those  that 
turned  on  the  property  and  claims  of  the  Church. 
Other  issues  were  usually  either  local  or  personal,  sel- 
dom economic,  hardly  ever  racial. 

Several  thoughtful  South  Americans  in  the  days  of  the 
Revolution  perceived  that  their  countries  were  not  fit 
for  democracy.  The  illustrious  San  Martin  favoured 
a republican  government  based  on  a limited  suffrage ; 
and  Bolivar  himself  desired  to  be  life  president  of  a 
confederation  of  states.  Apart,  however,  from  the  diffi- 
culty of  proposing  constitutions  which  would  have  ex- 
cluded a large  part  of  those  whose  arms  had  secured  inde- 
pendence, the  enthusiasm  for  liberty  that  prevailed  and 
the  rapturous  belief  that  liberty  was  enough  to  secure 
peace  and  prosperity,  prescribed  democratic  arrange- 
ments, and  it  was  only  in  later  struggles  between  rival 
parties  that  some  leader  would  enact  qualifications  calcu- 
lated to  exclude  his  opponents.  Everywhere  the  system 
of  vesting  executive  power  in  a president  holding  office 
for  a term  of  years  was  adopted.  It  seemed  the  sim- 
plest plan,  and  was  recommended  by  the  example  of  the 
United  States,  but  it  set  up  a tempting  prize  for  ambi- 
tion and  generally  led  straight  to  dictatorship.  Bad 
men  abused  it  to  enrich  themselves  or  their  friends, 
good  men  found  that  the  quickest  and  possibly  the  only 
way  to  carry  out  the  reforms  which  the  country  needed 
was  to  stretch  their  constitutional  authority.  High- 
minded  and  public-spirited  rulers  were  not  wanting, 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


539 


but  they  could  not,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  create 
the  materials  for  a true  democracy. 

Whoever  travels  through  these  countries,  — I include 
Mexico  and  Central  America,  but  not  Chile  or  Argen- 
tina, of  which  more  anon,  — and  whoever,  having  thus 
obtained  some  knowledge  of  their  physical  and  racial 
character,  studies  their  history,  finds  himself  driven 
to  three  conclusions.  The  first  is  that  these  states 
never  have  been  democracies  in  any  real  sense  of  the 
word.  The  second  is  that  they  could  not  have  been  real 
democracies.  To  expect  peoples  so  racially  composed, 
very  small  peoples,  spread  over  a vast  area,  peoples 
with  no  practice  in  self-government,  to  be  able  to  create 
and  work  democratic  institutions  was  absurd,  though 
the  experience  which  their  history  has  furnished  to  the 
world  was  needed  to  demonstrate  the  absurdity.  The 
third  conclusion  is  that  injustice  is  done  to  the  Spanish 
Americans  by  censures  and  criticisms  which  ignore 
these  fundamental  facts.  There  is  no  more  Original 
Sin  among  them  than  there  is  in  other  peoples.  Many 
of  their  statesmen  and  generals  were  honest  patriots, 
who  loved  liberty  and  sought  to  give  their  country  as 
much  liberty  as  it  was  capable  of  then  receiving.  It  was 
neither  their  fault  nor  the  fault  of  the  people  that  the 
conditions  then  existing  made  real  representative  and  re- 
sponsible government  impracticable.  The  constitutions 
did  not  suit  the  facts,  and  the  facts  had  to  prevail  against 
the  constitutions,  sometimes  against  their  letter,  usually 
against  their  spirit.  When  voters  were  obviously  unfit 
to  elect,  and  when  fair  elections  could  not  be  secured, 


540 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


it  was  not  wonderful  that  power  should  be  seized  with- 
out legal  title,  or  that  an  election  should  be  so  con- 
trolled by  force  or  arranged  and  put  through  by  fraud, 
that  while  the  form  of  it  was  respected,  it  did  not  ex- 
press any  popular  will.  When  one  party  had  done 
these  things,  the  other  party  repeated  the  process  as 
soon  as  it  had  a chance,  and  thereafter  things  moved 
round  in  the  same  vicious  circle. 

Why  does  the  machinery  of  constitutional  government 
work  smoothly  in  Switzerland  and  the  United  States 
and  England  ? Because  its  forms,  being  consecrated 
by  tradition  and  supported  by  public  opinion,  are  re- 
spected by  the  officials  who  have  to  work  them.  In 
these  South  American  republics,  there  were  no  tradi- 
tions, and  very  little  public  opinion ; and  this  was  due 
not  to  any  inborn  defects  of  the  people,  but  to  historical 
causes  which  had  deprived  them  of  such  advantages  as 
the  Swiss  possess  and  had  given  them  constitutions  quite 
unfitted  to  their  case. 

If  the  democratic  frames  of  government  they  adopted 
were  unsuitable,  what  other  frames  would  have  been 
suitable?  Bolivar  desired  a sort  of  elective  life  mon- 
archy, to  be  sure  with  himself  as  monarch.  San 
Martin  (as  already  observed)  preferred  an  oligarchic 
republic.  Either  might  have  been  better  than  what  was 
actually  taken.  An  ‘'honest”  oligarchy,  i.e.  one  pro- 
fessing to  be  what  it  really  is,  may  be  — doubtless  is  — 
better  than  a sham  democracy.  In  a country  where 
only  a minority  — perhaps  a small  minority  — of  the 
citizens  are  capable  of  taking  part  in  the  government, 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


541 


it  may  be  safer  legally  to  recognize  them  as  the  gov- 
erning class,  and  thus  bring  theory  into  accord  with 
facts,  rather  than  that  the  divergence  of  facts  from 
theory  should  prove  an  irresistible  temptation  to  force 
or  fraud.  This,  however,  remains  matter  for  specula- 
tion, since  no  country  has  permanently  established 
elective  monarchy,  and  few  have  embodied  oligarchical 
provisions  in  their  constitutions.  Let  it  be  added  that 
the  better  or  worse  political  condition  of  these  states 
has  seldom  turned  upon  the  extent  to  which  the  suf- 
frage has  been  granted,  for  in  those  where  violent 
methods  prevail,  the  result  would  be  the  same  whether 
the  number  of  voting  citizens  were  great  or  small. 

Although  for  the  sake  of  conciseness  I have  spoken 
of  these  republics  as  a whole,  the  remarks  made  being 
more  or  less  applicable  to  them  all,  still  there  are  marked 
differences  between  those  which  have  advanced  and  are 
advancing  and  others  whose  political  health  seems  little 
better  now  than  it  was  fifty  years  ago.  We  may  distin- 
guish three  classes  of  states.  The  first  consists  of  those 
in  which  republican  institutions,  purporting  to  exist 
legally,  are  a mere  farce,  the  government  being,  in  fact,  a 
military  despotism,  more  or  less  oppressive  and  corrupt, 
according  to  the  character  of  the  ruler,  but  carried  on  for 
the  benefit  of  the  Executive  and  his  friends.  The  second 
includes  countries  where  there  is  a legislature  which 
imposes  some  restraint  upon  the  executive  and  in  which 
there  is  enough  public  opinion  to  influence  the  conduct 
of  both  legislature  and  executive.  In  these  states  the 
rulers,  though  not  scrupulous  in  their  methods  of  grasp- 


542 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


ing  power,  recognize  some  responsibility  to  the  citizens 
and  avoid  open  violence  or  gross  in  j ustice.  The  third  class 
are  real  republics,  in  which  authority  has  been  obtained 
under  constitutional  forms,  not  by  armed  force,  and 
where  the  machinery  of  government  works  with  regularity 
and  reasonable  fairness,  laws  are  passed  by  elected  bodies 
under  no  executive  coercion,  and  both  administrative 
and  judicial  work  goes  on  in  a duly  legal  way. 

Instances  of  the  first  class  are  too  familiar  to  need 
mention.  By  far  the  worst  is  Hayti.  The  most  strik- 
ing example  of  the  second  class  was  Mexico  under  the 
government  of  President  Porfirio  Diaz.  The  govern- 
ment of  that  statesman,  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
men  of  our  time,  was  autocratic.  His  power  had  been 
won  by  fighting,  but  was  maintained  under  legal  forms. 
The  legislature  obeyed  him  implicitly.  Elections  were 
managed  by  his  government,  and  that  with  little  diffi- 
culty because,  until  1910,  when  his  hold  had  begun  to 
be  shaken,  no  one  ventured  to  vote  against  him.  His 
personal  superiority  to  all  the  vulgar  temptations 
was  recognized  and  admired.  His  ministers  talked  to 
the  Chambers,  but  took  their  orders  from  him  alone. 
His  policies  were  directed  to  the  material  development 
of  the  country  by  the  construction  of  railways,  the  en- 
couragement of  manufactures,  the  opening  up  of  mines 
and  extension  of  irrigation.  Order  was  maintained 
by  a rural  police  formed  out  of  former  bandits,  who  by 
having  been  enrolled,  disciplined,  and  regularly  paid  be- 
came useful  members  of  society.  The  lure  to  conquest 
which  the  weakness  of  the  republics  to  the  south  held 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


543 


out  was  firmly  resisted,  and  only  a moderate  army 
maintained.  Under  this  regime  the  country  was  ad- 
vancing rapidly  in  wealth  and  a class  of  persons  inter- 
ested in  order  and  prosperity  was  being  formed.  Had 
the  President,  when  old  age  arrived,  been  able  to  find 
someone  like  himself  to  whom  he  could  have  handed 
over  the  reins,  prosperity  and  order  would  doubtless  have 
continued.  The  sort  of  government  he  gave  the  country 
was  probably  what  best  suited  it.1  The  Indian  popula- 
tion, constituting  a majority,  were  (though  naturally 
intelligent)  obviously  unfit  for  civic  functions.  The 
uneducated  mass  of  the  mestizos  were  almost  equally  so. 
An  oligarchic  government,  formed  out  of  the  richer  class, 
would  have  furnished  a less  efficient  administration, 
and  would  probably,  after  some  years  of  quarrelling, 
have  given  place  to  a military  chief. 

Of  the  third  class  good  examples  may  be  found  in 
Chile  and  Argentina,  both  of  which  are  bona  fide  re- 
publics. Chile  is  of  all  the  Latin-American  states 
the  one  which  best  answers  to  European  or  North 
American  notions  of  a free  constitutional  common- 
wealth, one  of  the  chief  reasons  being  that  her  population 
is  unusually  homogeneous  and  unusually  concentrated 
within  a comparatively  small  area.  Northern  Chile 
is  an  arid  desert,  southern  Chile  a forest  wilderness, 
but  in  the  centre  there  is  an  area  five  hundred  miles 
long  by  fifty  wide  within  which  the  large  majority  of 

1 Though  much  more  ought  to  have  been  done  towards  the  solu- 
tion of  land  questions  and  for  the  promotion  of  education.  [Mexico 
seems  to  have  now  relapsed  into  a condition  as  bad  as  that  from 
which  Juarez  and  Diaz  rescued  her.  Note  to  edition  of  1914.] 


544 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


her  3,300,000  citizens  dwell.  The  suffrage  is  limited, 
and  governing  power  is  practically  in  the  hands  of  a 
comparatively  small  landed  aristocracy,  and  a few  law- 
yers. Government,  including  what  we  called  the  party 
game,  is  carried  on  with  the  same  spirit  and  by4he  same 
methods  as  it  was  in  England  during  the  eighteenth 
century,  allowing  for  the  differences  between  a monarchy 
and  a republic.  There  are  constant  changes  in  the  min- 
isters, but  the  machine  works,  and  the  general  lines  of 
national  policy  are  preserved.  There  have  been  no  rev- 
olutions wdthin  the  living  memory,  but  there  was  once  a 
civil  war.  President  Balmaceda,  finding  that  he  could 
not  carry  out  his  policies  within  the  strict  limits  of  his 
constitutional  powers,  exceeded  them  and  defied  the  leg- 
islature. Each  party,  like  the  English  Charles  I and  his 
Parliament,  took  up  arms  to  fight  out  the  question  of 
right.  Balmaceda,  defeated  in  battle,  put  an  end  to 
his  own  life.  He  had  the  weaker  legal  case,  but  was 
a man  with  some  ideas,  quite  above  the  common  type 
of  ambitious  adventurer.  After  him,  Chilean  politics 
resumed  their  normal  constitutional  course.  There 
were,  in  1910,  six  parties,  one  Conservative  and  five 
Liberal  sections,  the  latter  sometimes  acting  together, 
sometimes  divided.  The  level  of  capacity,  as  well  as 
of  eloquence,  is  high,  and  so  is  the  national  spirit  of 
the  people. 

Argentina  has  had  a more  troubled  and  more  san- 
guinary history  than  Chile,  and  has  more  recently 
emerged  from  among  the  breakers  into  smooth  water. 
Sixty  years  ago  she  had  in  Rosas  a tyrant  as  cruel  as 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


545 


Barrios  of  Guatemala  and  as  bloodthirsty  as  Lopez  of 
Paraguay,  and  even  later,  civil  wars  raged  between  the 
people  of  Buenos  Aires  and  those  of  the  northern  states. 
But  as  the  country  began  to  be  settled  and  railroads  were 
made  and  labour  was  provided  by  the  influx  of  Italian 
and  Spanish  immigrants  and  large  cities  sprang  up,  the 
effect  of  general  prosperity  was  felt  in  a growing  sense 
of  the  value  of  order  and  peace.  Though  the  foreign 
merchants  whose  interests  were  involved  took  no  direct 
part  in  politics,  their  influence  was  felt  not  only  in 
promoting  sounder  finance,  but  in  making  the  native 
men  of  substance  feel  that  frequent  revolutions  were  re- 
tarding the  development  of  their  properties.  Thus, 
since  1893,  there  has  been  no  armed  civil  strife  of  the  old 
kind  and  the  public  tranquillity  is  now  disturbed  only 
by  alarms  similar  to  those  which  the  spread  and  the 
violent  methods  of  anarchism  have  caused  in  some  parts 
of  Europe.  That  flavour  of  militarism  which  was  so 
strong  in  former  years  has  now  virtually  disappeared. 
The  administration  is  conducted  by  civilians,  and  is 
pervaded  by  a legal  spirit.  In  short,  Argentina  is  now, 
like  Chile,  a constitutional  republic,  whose  defects,  what- 
ever they  may  be,  are  the  defects  of  a republic,  not  of 
a despotism  disguised  under  republican  forms. 

The  examples  of  these  two  countries  prove  that  there 
is  nothing  in  South  American  air  or  Spanish  blood  to 
prevent  republican  institutions  from  working.  If  the 
working  is  not  perfect,  neither  is  it  perfect  anywhere  else 
in  the  world.  What  these  countries  have  shewn  is  that 
with  favouring  conditions  the  true  constitutional  spirit 
2n 


546 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


can  be  more  and  more  infused  into  constitutional  forms 
and  the  old  habits  of  violence  eradicated.  The  case  of 
Argentina  in  particular  suggests  the  process  by  which 
we  may  expect  that  other  La  tin- American  states  will, 
by  degrees,  advance  towards  a more  settled  'and  gen- 
uinely legal  government.  What  is  the  first  thing  that 
is  needed  to  enable  any  community  to  prosper  ? Is  it 
not  the  desire  for  order  and  the  respect  for  order,  the 
sense  that  there  must  be  a curb  on  the  impulses  and 
passions  of  individuals,  some  law  duly  enforced,  some 
means  of  checking  violence  and  of  protecting  life  and 
property  against  physical  force  ? This  sense  grows  with 
the  growth  of  property  and  with  the  development  of  in- 
dustrial habits.  The  larger  the  number,  and  the  greater 
the  influence  in  a community,  of  those  who  feel  that 
revolutions  injure  not  only  the  country,  but  also  them- 
selves personally,  the  better  is  the  prospect  of  breaking 
the  revolutionary  habit,  for  a public  opinion  grows  up 
which  condemns  violence  and  actively  opposes  those  who 
resort  to  it.  Moreover,  the  more  property  there  is  and 
the  more  industry  there  is  in  a country,  the  smaller  is 
the  proportion  of  those  who  join  in  a revolution  either 
from  a love  of  fighting  or  in  the  hope  of  bettering  their 
fortunes.  In  a prosperous  country,  more  can  be  done 
and  more  is  likely  to  be  done  for  public  instruction, 
one  of  the  most  urgent  needs  of  these  nations.  Argen- 
tina’s recent  efforts  in  that  direction  are  an  instance, 
and  education,  if  it  does  not  make  men  good  citizens, 
makes  it  at  least  easier  for  them  to  become  so. 

To  speak  of  increasing  wealth  as  a factor  making  for 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


547 


the  political  progress  of  a country  may  sound  strange  to 
those  who  in  Europe  and  the  United  States  see  how  the 
working  of  free  institutions  may  be  endangered  and  per- 
verted by  the  corrupting  influences  of  money  and  the 
money  power.  Nevertheless,  according  to  the  prov- 
erb, “One  man’s  meat  is  another  man’s  poison,”  there 
are  stages  in  a nation’s  growth  when  it  is  so  essential  to 
establish  security  and  give  everybody  a sense  of  the 
need  for  it,  that  whatever  makes  for  security  makes  for 
progress.  The  heart  is  better  than  the  pocket,  but  it  is 
easier  to  fill  the  pocket  than  to  purify  the  heart.  The 
love  of  liberty  is  a nobler  thing  than  the  love  of  secu- 
rity, but  sometimes  the  latter  needs  to  be  diffused  be- 
fore the  former  can  have  its  perfect  work. 

It  is  true  that  the  desire  for  order  and  security  may 
lead  men  to  submit  willingly  to  arbitrary  power.  This 
has  often  happened  since  the  days  of  Julius  Caesar  and 
his  nephew.  But  it  has  usually  happened  not  because 
men  have  ceased  to  value  liberty,  but  because,  finding 
that  they  are  failing  to  secure  either  security  or  liberty, 
they  think  it  better  to  have  one  than  to  have  neither. 

There  are,  in  Spanish  America,  some  communities  still 
so  far  from  being  capable  of  genuine  popular  self- 
government  that  the  best  thing  for  them  is  the  strong 
rule  of  an  able  ruler  which  will  give  them  prosperity 
through  peace,  shew  them  how  to  develop  their  re- 
sources, make  them,  by  education  and  by  better 
communications,  a more  homogeneous  people.  Those 
things  done,  such  communities  will,  like  Argentina,  find 
themselves  fitter  to  work  free  institutions.  At  present, 


548 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


under  the  rule  of  selfish  adventurers  and  corrupt  legis- 
latures who  are  the  tools  of  the  adventurer,  the  condi- 
tions of  progress  are  absent.  Two  or  three  of  the  South 
American  republics  — they  are  not  among  those  which 
I saw  — are  still  in  this  condition.  The  rule  of  a man 
like  Porfirio  Diaz  would  seem  to  give  them  the  best 
chance  of  emerging  from  it.  At  present  they  advance 
neither  morally  nor  materially. 

Nevertheless,  taking  the  eleven  South  American 
states  as  a whole,  their  condition  is  better  than  it  was 
sixty  years  ago.  In  most  of  them  the  civil  element  has 
tended  to  grow  and  the  military  element  to  decline. 
The  lawyer-politician  is  not  always  a law-abiding  politi- 
cian, yet  on  the  whole  preferable  to  the  soldier-politi- 
cian. His  methods  are  less  brutal.  May  not  even  a 
perversion  of  the  law  be  a trifle  better  than  a disregard 
of  all  law  ? Revolutions  and  civil  wars  have  become 
less  sanguinary ; the  execution  of  political  opponents 
less  frequent.  Political  assassinations,  which  in  Europe 
have  unhappily  been  growing  more  frequent,1  are  now 
more  rare  here.  The  sort  of  savagery  that  existed  in 
the  days  when  Artigas,  fighting  for  the  independence  of 
his  country,  used  (according  to  the  story)  to  sew  up 
prisoners  in  oxhides  by  batches  and  roll  them  downhill 
into  the  river  has  long  since  passed  away.  Nor  is  it  to 
be  forgotten  that  there  is  extremely  little  brigandage 
or  insecurity  in  most  of  these  states,  far  less  than  there 

1 There  would  seem  to  have  been  more  in  Europe  within  the  last 
fifty  years  than  in  any  preceding  period  of  equal  length  since  the 
seventeenth  century. 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


549 


was  a few  years  ago  in  Sicily.  The  ordinary  citizen  is 
little  affected  even  by  the  revolutions  which,  where  they 
occur,  are  carried  on  by  a small  part  of  the  population. 
Perhaps  if  the  ordinary  citizen  suffered  more,  revolu- 
tions would  be  fewer. 

Ecclesiastical  questions  have  been  almost  wholly 
eliminated  from  politics  in  all  the  larger  and  some  of 
the  smaller  states,  and  religious  liberty  has  been  estab- 
lished on  a basis  not  likely  to  be  shaken.  A long- 
standing and  bitter  cause  of  strife  has  thus  been  re- 
moved. 

All  the  Spanish-American  countries,  even  Paraguay, 
are  now  more  open  to  the  world  than  they  used  to  be;  and 
the  currents  of  its  opinion  reach  them  in  ever  increasing 
volume.  As  few  of  them  have  peaceful  political  traditions 
of  their  own  to  guide  or  inspire  them — when  they  invoke 
the  past,  it  is  the  exploits  of  revolutionary  heroes  that 
are  recalled  — they  must  needs  look  to  the  thought  and 
practice  of  the  older  nations  for  principles  and  prec- 
edents in  the  art  of  government;  so  whatever  brings 
them  into  intellectual  touch  with  Europe  and  North 
America  is  helpful.  Already  one  discovers  an  increas- 
ing number  of  men  who  perceive  that  for  their  nations 
the  only  path  upward  and  forward  is  through  the  creation 
of  a spirit  of  self-control  and  a higher  sense  of  civic  duty. 

To  understand  these  countries,  one  must  think  of 
them  as  having,  under  the  rule  of  the  Spanish  Crown 
and  of  the  Church,  dropped  two  centuries  behind  the 
general  march  of  civilized  mankind.  When  they  were 
finally  liberated  in  1825,  they  were  practically  still  in 


550 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  seventeenth,  while  Europe  and  the  United  States 
were  in  the  nineteenth,  century,  with  the  additional  dis- 
advantages of  a large  aboriginal  population,  a thinly 
peopled  land,  fifteen  years  of  bloodshed  and  disorder, 
such  as  Europe  had  not  seen  for  nigh  three  ^hundred 
years,  and  no  preexisting  constitutional  forms  or  usages. 
A few  of  them,  favoured  by  physical  or  by  racial  condi- 
tions, have  already  overcome  these  difficulties.  Their 
example  will  tell  upon  and  encourage  the  rest. 

In  the  middle  of  last  century,  when  European  Lib- 
erals, disappointed  at  the  failure  of  their  earlier  hopes, 
had  begun  to  pass  a severe  judgment  on  the  peoples  of 
these  republics  because  freedom  had  not  made  them  at 
once  virtuous,  happy,  and  prosperous,  were  not  those 
Liberals  themselves  misled  by  their  own  too  sanguine 
temper  ? Had  they  not  too  implicit  a faith  in  the 
power  of  liberty  ? They  ascribed  all  the  faults  of  exist- 
ing governments  to  the  monarchies  or  oligarchies  of  the 
past  and  did  not  understand,  having  little  experience  of 
popular  rule,  how  many  faults  in  governments  have 
been,  and  will  continue  to  be,  due  not  to  their  form,  but 
to  human  nature  itself.  Since  1859,  power  has  in  many 
countries  passed  from  the  hands  of  the  few  into  the 
hands  of  the  many,  but  no  millennium  of  virtue  and 
peace  has  yet  followed.  There  is  still  bitterness  and 
discontent,  there  are  still  complaints  that  the  law  is 
not  fair  between  classes,  still  a distrust  of  legislative 
bodies,  still  demands  for  an  extension  of  direct  popular 
control  over  the  whole  machinery  of  administration  and, 
in  North  America,  even  over  the  judiciary.  No  sensible 


POLITICAL  CONDITIONS 


551 


man  proposes  to  go  back  to  the  absolutism  and  repres- 
sion of  the  older  time;  but  every  sensible  man  feels 
that  the  problems  of  government  are  far  more  difficult 
than  our  grandfathers  had  perceived,  and  that  men  have 
still  much  to  learn  from  a fuller  experience.  These 
things  being  so,  ought  not  the  judgment  passed  on  the 
Spanish  Americans  to  be  more  lenient  ? Their  diffi- 
culties were  greater  than  any  European  people  had  to 
face,  and  there  is  no  need  to  be  despondent  for  their 
future. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS 

Whether  it  is  well  to  rejoice  that  the  population  of  our 
planet  has  grown  so  fast  during  the  last  century,  even  as 
the  inhabitants  of  a city  rejoice  when  a decennial  cen- 
sus reveals  a rapid  growth  in  their  city,  is  a question 
which  may  be  deemed  a branch  of  the  larger  one 
whether  life  is  worth  living.  The  fact,  however,  being 
unquestionable,  raises  a practical  question.  If  the  pres- 
ent rate  of  growth  should  continue  for  a few  centuries, 
there  presently  will  be  little  room  left  on  the  planet. 
What  will  then  happen?  During  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury the  surface  of  the  earth  has  been  explored  suffi- 
ciently to  enable  us  to  know  how  much  of  it  is  available 
for  the  production  of  food.  Of  that  part  which  was 
available  and  unused  in  1800  a great  deal  had  been 
settled  by  1900.  In  Europe  there  is  no  more  land 
to  be  occupied,  because  the  waste  spaces  of  southern 
Russia  have  now  been  almost  filled  by  settlers  from 
the  rest  of  that  country.  In  the  temperate  parts  of 
Asia,  though  there  has  been  considerable  Russian  im- 
migration into  western  Siberia  and  considerable  Chinese 
immigration  into  Manchuria,  there  still  remain  in 
those  countries  large  tracts  unoccupied  and  not  too 
dry  for  cultivation.  In  Australia  it  is  still  doubt- 

552 


l 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  553 

ful  how  much  of  the  land  whose  aridity  has  discour- 
aged settlement  can  be  turned  to  account  either  for 
tillage  or  for  pasture.  In  North  America  the  immense 
rush  to  the  West,  which  began  after  1830  with  the 
building  of  railways,  has  now  filled  nearly  the  whole  of 
the  United  States,  and  a very  large  part  of  Canada,  so 
that  another  forty  or  fifty  years  may  see  the  country 
filled  up  as  far  as  the  frozen  north.  In  Africa  there  are 
parts  of  Tunisia  and  Algeria  which  irrigation  might  re- 
claim, there  are  parts  of  Morocco  which  could  support 
a larger  population  than  now  dwells  in  them,  and  there 
is  also  a limited  highland  area  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  continent  fit  to  be  inhabited  by  men  of  European 
stock.  The  rest,  including  not  only  the  Sahara,  but 
most  of  the  country  south  of  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn, 
is  either  arid  desert,  or  else  so  hot  and  humid  that  it 
must  be  given  up  to  the  black  races,  who  have  so  far 
shewn  no  capacity  for  settled  industry  when  left  to 
themselves.  Thus,  if  we  omit  the  tropical  countries 
inhabited  by  savage  peoples  (central  Africa  and  the 
islands  of  southeastern  Asia),  it  will  appear  that,  should 
the  present  increase  of  the  civilized  peoples  be  main- 
tained, the  rest  of  the  world  will  not  suffice  for  their 
agricultural  expansion  for  more  than  a short  period, 
that  is  to  say,  a period  shorter  than  the  four  centuries 
which  have  elapsed  since  the  outward  movement  of  the 
European  peoples  began  with  the  discovery  of  the  New 
World. 

What  then  of  South  America  ? Before  dealing  with 
it,  let  me  advert  to  two  considerations  which  may 


554 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


modify  the  conclusions  suggested  by  any  review  of  the 
total  area  now  available  to  meet  a continued  growth 
of  population. 

May  not  intensive  cultivation  and  the  further  devel- 
opments of  chemical  science  greatly  increase  The  food- 
producing  power  of  lands  already  occupied?  Doubt- 
less they  may.  They  are  doing  so  already.  But 
such  an  increase  cannot  be  expected  to  go  on  indefinitely. 
The  urgency  of  the  problem  may  be  postponed,  but  the 
problem  will  remain  ahead  of  us. 

May  not  the  rate  of  increase  of  the  world’s  popula- 
tion decline,  and  perhaps  go  on  declining  until  an  equi- 
librium between  that  increase  and  food  production 
has  been  reached  ? This  is  possible.  Observations 
made  during  the  last  thirty  years  have  already 
thrown  grave  doubts  upon  the  propositions  advanced 
by  Malthus  three  generations  ago  which  were  for  a long 
time  taken  as  irrefragable.  That  the  signs  of  decreas- 
ing birth-rate  are  so  far  visible  only  among  some  of 
the  most  advanced  peoples  is  not  a cheering  cir- 
cumstance, for  what  we  must  desire  in  the  interests 
of  mankind  at  large  is  that  the  more  highly  civilized 
races  should  increase  faster  than  the  more  backward, 
so  as  to  enable  the  former  to  prevail  not  merely  by  force, 
but  by  numbers  and  amicable  influence.  All  these 
considerations,  however,  regarding  birth-rate  are  still 
too  uncertain  to  be  allowed  to  affect  any  enquiries 
regarding  future  food  supply  and  the  regions  from 
which  it  is  to  come.  Whatever  light  the  next  few 
decades  may  throw  upon  the  former  question,  the 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  555 


latter  deserves  to  be  investigated  as  a subject  of  grow- 
ing significance. 

And  now  we  may  return  to  South  America,  the  only 
continent  containing  both  a large  temperate  and  a 
large  tropical  area  capable  of  cultivation  which  still  re- 
mains greatly  underpeopled.  It  is,  therefore,  the  chief 
resource  to  which  the  overpeopled  countries  may  look 
as  providing  a field  for  their  emigration,  and  to  which 
the  world  at  large  may  look  as  capable  of  reinforcing 
its  food  supply.  That  it  has  not  been  sooner  occupied 
is  due  partly  to  the  political  disorders  which  have  given 
it  a bad  name,  partly  to  its  being  less  accessible  than 
North  America.  Both  these  adverse  conditions  no 
longer  apply  to  its  temperate  regions. 

Considered  as  a field  for  emigration,  South  America 
may  be  divided  into  three  sections.  There  are,  first, 
the  tropical  and  forest-covered  regions  of  Colombia, 
Venezuela,  Guiana,  and  eastern  Brazil ; secondly,  the 
temperate  and  grassy  or  wooded  regions  of  Argen- 
tina, Uruguay,  and  southern  Brazil  outside  the  trop- 
ics; and  lastly,  the  great  central  plain  of  the  Ama- 
zon and  its  tributaries  which  the  Brazilians  call  the 
Selvas  (woods).  I exclude  altogether  the  mountainous 
parts  of  Ecuador,  Peru,  and  Bolivia,  because  they  are 
already  as  well  inhabited  as  they  deserve  to  be.  A very 
small  part  of  them  is  fit  for  stock  or  for  agriculture,  and 
the  climatic  conditions  (except  in  a few  valleys)  are  repel- 
lent to  persons  not  accustomed  to  great  altitudes.  Not 
even  Italians  can  be  expected  to  cultivate  fields  twelve 
thousand  feet  above  sea-level. 


556 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  other  three  sections  just  mentioned  are  much  un- 
derpeopled. The  first  is  better  fitted  for  negro  or  Indian 
labour  than  for  that  of  whites,  yet  there  are  many  parts 
of  it  where  men  of  south  European  stock  can  work 
in  the  open  air  and  thrive.  In  an  area  6f  about 
two  millions  of  square  miles,  it  has  about  seven  and 
a half  million  inhabitants,  of  whom  a small  minority 
are  pure  whites,  the  rest  Indians  or  negroes  or  mixed. 
Four  or  five  times  that  number  could  easily  find 
accommodation. 

The  second  section  is  the  one  pre-eminently  fitted  to 
receive  white  men.  Its  area  may  be  roughly  conjectured 
at  a million  and  a half  of  square  miles,  but  so  much  of  the 
Argentine  part  of  it  is  desert  that  it  would  not  be  safe  to 
reckon  more  than  two-thirds  of  it  as  available  for  settle- 
ment. As  there  are  now  only  twelve  millions  of  people 
in  this  million  of  square  miles,  there  is  evidently  plenty 
of  room  for  more. 

This  is  the  part  of  South  America  which  has  drawn 
most  immigrants  during  the  last  sixty  years,  south- 
ern Brazil  leading  the  way,  Argentina  and  Uruguay 
following.  It  is  also  the  region  which  will  chiefly  con- 
tinue to  attract  Europeans  for  many  years  to  come. 

In  Argentina  and  most  of  Uruguay,  as  in  the  prairie 
states  of  North  America  and  the  Canadian  Northwest, 
there  are  no  trees  to  be  felled,  so  the  land,  extremely  fer- 
tile, can  be  brought  under  crops  immediately.  The 
estates  are  at  present  large,  but  if  there  were  settlers 
with  enough  capital  to  buy  small  lots,  these  could 
soon  be  had,  and  already  some  Italians  are  establish- 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  557 


ing  themselves  as  peasant  cultivators.1  It  is  a country 
where  the  labour  is  at  present  small  in  proportion  to  the 
area  utilized,  partly  because  much  of  the  land  is  in  pas- 
ture, partly  because  its  flatness  makes  the  use  of  agricul- 
tural machinery  specially  easy,  partly  because  the  har- 
vests are  largely  reaped  by  migratory  Europeans  who 
return  home  for  part  of  the  year.  Nevertheless,  after 
making  all  allowances,  both  Argentina  and  the  other 
tracts  I have  referred  to  are  capable,  supposing  immigra- 
tion to  continue  at  the  present  rate,  of  providing  work 
and  homes  for  immigrants  for  at  least  sixty  or  seventy 
years  to  come.  Locusts  are  said  to  destroy  the  crop  once 
in  three  or  four  years,  but  this  plague  is  deemed  likely 
to  diminish  as  settlement  and  civilization  extend  north- 
wards to  the  regions  whence  it  now  comes.  The  esti- 
mate that  before  the  end  of  the  century  Argentina 
may  have  fifty,  Uruguay  ten,  and  southern  Brazil 
thirty  millions  of  people  (assuming  the  birth-rate  to  be 
maintained)  need  not  seem  extravagant  to  anyone  who 
knows  how  rapidly  settlement  has  advanced  in  North 
America  and  who  realizes  that  before  long  the  stream 
of  agricultural  immigration  will  cease  to  flow  into  the 
United  States  and  may  slacken  in  its  flow  towards 
Canada. 

The  cultivable  areas  of  Chile  are  relatively  small  ; 
and  the  Chileans  themselves  seem  to  think  they  need 
more  land  for  their  national  development.  To  one 

'The  small  cultivator  in  Argentina  is  under  this  disadvantage 
that  a severe  drought  or  a swarm  of  locusts  may  ruin  him,  whereas  the 
large  farmer  with  more  capital  can  bear  the  loss  of  one  season’s  crop. 


558 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


who  travels  through  southern  Chile  there  seems,  how- 
ever, to  be  still  room  for  a greatly  increased  population 
in  its  well- watered  valleys,  which  enjoy  a delightful 
climate.  The  future  of  these  four  countries  is  assured, 
so  far  as  the  gifts  of  nature  can  assure  it.  'The  world 
will  always  want  what  they  produce. 

Far  more  doubtful  is  the  future  of  the  third  section, 
the  Selvas,  or  forest-covered  Amazonian  plain.  It 
includes  nearly  all  the  western  half  of  Brazil,  and  the 
eastern  parts  of  Bolivia,  Peru,  and  Ecuador.  An 
estimate  of  its  area  at  2,300,000  square  miles,  including 
the  basin  of  the  Tocantins  river,  might  not  be  extrava- 
gant. It  is  an  almost  absolute  level  1200  miles  long, 
from  north  to  south,  and  1500  wide.  Those  parts 
which  he  along  the  great  river  and  its  larger  tribu- 
taries are  so  low  that  these  rivers  when  they  rise  in  the 
rainy  season  spread  out  their  waters  for  from  sixty 
to  eighty  miles  or  more  on  each  side,  and  immense 
stretches  of  country  not  actually  flooded  become  impas- 
sable morasses.  But  away  back  from  the  rivers  there 
are  higher  grounds,  flat,  but  raised  sufficiently  to  be 
above  the  inundations ; and  on  its  western  margin  the 
great  plain  is  bordered  by  a stretch  of  undulating  country 
before  the  foot  of  the  Andes  is  reached.  All  the  country, 
whether  level  or  undulating,  is  covered  with  forest.  The 
trees  grow  so  close  that  there  is  no  way  of  travelling  ex- 
cept by  boat  along  the  streams.  Intense  heat  and  abun- 
dant moisture  combine  to  make  vegetation  so  profuse 
and  rank  that  ground  cleared  of  trees  is,  after  three  or 
four  years,  covered  thick  again. 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  559 


In  this  vast  area  there  are,  except  in  a few  trading 
stations  along  the  river,  only  one  of  them  a consider- 
able town,1  practically  no  inhabitants,  perhaps  not  a 
human  being  to  a square  mile.  The  few  and  scattered 
inhabitants  outside  these  stations  are  Indians,  nearly 
all  savages,  most  of  them  heathens.  Some  are  war- 
like, and  skilful  in  the  use  of  their  bows  and  of  the 
long  blow  pipe  from  which  they  discharge  poisoned 
darts,  but  the  greater  number  are  timid  and  feeble,  an 
easy  prey  to  the  rubber  gatherers,  who  have  in  some 
places  shewn  themselves  more  cruel  than  the  wildest 
Indian.2  Here  and  there  in  Peru  and  Bolivia  there 
are  a few  cultivated  districts  in  the  undulating  ground 
along  the  base  of  the  Andes,  where  some  sugar,  coffee, 
and  cocoa  are  raised.  But  the  only  product  of 
any  commercial  importance  is  rubber,  collected  from 
several  kinds  of  trees,  and  exported  in  vast  quantities 
down  the  tributary  rivers  into  the  Amazon  and  thence 
to  the  sea.  The  whole  region,  however,  appears  to  be 
of  extreme  fertility,  and  to  this  the  size  of  the  trees,  as 
well  as  the  profusion  of  the  vegetation,  bears  witness. 
Most  of  it  is  covered  with  vegetable  soil  accumulated 
during  many  thousands  of  years,  and  has  never  been 
touched  by  human  hand.  As  many  of  the  woods  are 
valuable,  there  might  be  a considerable  trade  in  timber, 
but  the  cost  of  getting  out  great  logs  is  practically  pro- 

1 This  is  Manaos  in  Brazilian  territory.  Higher  up,  in  Peruvian, 
is  the  smaller  town  of  Iquitos.  Ocean-going  steamers  ply  as  far  as 
Manaos. 

- See  ante,  p.  76.  The  evil  is  widespread  and  horrible. 


560 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


hibitive,  for  the  trees  are  of  so  many  different  lands  that 
it  is  hard  to  obtain  a large  supply  of  the  same  kind  on 
any  given  area,  and  there  has  hitherto  been  no  means  of 
transport,  except  by  water. 

Can  these  Amazonian  Selvas,  which  form  the  largest 
unoccupied  fertile  space  on  the  earth’s  surface,  be  re- 
claimed for  the  service  of  man  ? 

This  question  is  not  a practical  one  for  our  generation, 
and  I mention  it  only  because  it  raises  an  interesting 
problem,  the  solution  of  which  will  one  day  be  attempted, 
since  so  vast  and  so  fertile  an  area  cannot  be  left  forever 
useless.  Since  men  have  begun  to  make  railways  through 
mountains  and  deserts,  and  to  build  bridges  across  arms  of 
the  sea  like  the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  most  of  all  since  the 
cutting  of  the  Panama  Canal,  it  has  become  an  accepted 
doctrine  that  every  work  is  only  a question  of  cost. 

If  ever,  when  the  world  is  fuller  than  it  is  now,  it 
becomes  worth  while  to  attempt  the  reclamation  of 
this  vast  region,  the  process  would  probably  begin  by 
placing  colonists  on  the  more  elevated  grounds  above 
the  annual  inundation  and  setting  them  to  clear  away 
the  wood  and  cultivate  the  soil.  Hard  work  would  be 
needed  to  keep  down  the  efforts  of  Nature  to  hold  her 
own  against  man  by  her  tremendous  vegetative  power, 
but  those  who  know  the  country  believe  that  this  could 
be  done,  and  that  the  difficulties  of  transport  through 
the  lower  parts  of  the  forest  to  the  banks  of  navigable 
streams  might  also  be  overcome.  Hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  square  miles  might  be  in  this  way  rendered 
habitable  and  cultivable,  assuming  that  capital  and  the 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  561 


proper  kind  of  labour  could  be  obtained.  To  reclaim 
the  lower  land  along  the  banks  of  the  rivers  by  con- 
structing embankments  or  levees  like  those  along  the 
lower  Mississippi  would  be  a more  arduous  undertaking, 
and  might  involve  an  expenditure  disproportionate  to 
the  results. 

Whence  would  come  the  capital  ? If  the  country  be- 
longed to  some  great  and  wealthy  nation,  in  which  there 
were  many  enterprising  men  seeking  employment  for 
their  wealth,  the  thing  might  be  attempted  on  a great 
scale,  perhaps  even  by  the  nation  itself.  Whether 
capitalists  from  other  countries  will  embark  on  such  an 
enterprise,  which  could  hardly  be  carried  out  except 
by  the  aid  of  a government,  is  doubtful.  If  attempted 
at  all,  it  must  be  on  a large  scale,  for  such  gradual  colo- 
nization by  settlers  coming  in  small  groups,  as  would  be 
the  natural  process  in  temperate  regions,  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible in  a country  where  man  has  so  powerful  a nature  to 
overcome. 

Supposing  the  capital  provided,  the  question  of  labour 
would  remain.  WIio  would  do  the  work  ? and  when  the 
work  wTas  done,  who  would  inhabit  and  cultivate  the 
lands  reclaimed  ? Thirty  years  ago  the  fear  of  tropical 
diseases  would  have  made  these  regions  seem  impossible 
for  white  men,  even  as  foremen  or  overseers.  To-day 
the  discovery  that  insects  are  the  chief  poison  carriers 
of  disease  has  reduced  our  fears.  But  to-day  it  still  re- 
mains doubtful  whether  the  men  of  any  European  race 
can  retain  health  and  vigour  in  a climate  so  moist  and 
so  hot,  and  so  far  away  from  sea  or  mountain  breezes, 

2o 


562 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


as  are  the  central  parts  of  the  Selvas.  It  is  at 
any  rate  unlikely  that  they  could  do  continuous  open- 
air  work  there.  If  white  men  cannot  be  employed,  what 
other  labour  would  be  available  ? As  the  native  Indians 
are  too  few  and  too  feeble  to  be  worth  regarding,  it 
would  be  necessary  to  bring  in  some  race  native  to  the 
tropics  which  had  already  formed  habits  of  steady  in- 
dustry. If  the  world  were  to-day  what  it  was  a century 
ago,  this  would  be  a simple  matter.  Negroes  would 
be  kidnapped  in  Africa  and  taken  up  the  rivers 
to  work  under  white  or  mulatto  overseers.  Nowa- 
days, compulsion  being  impossible,  persuasion  alone 
remains.  Negroes  abound  on  the  east  side  of  Brazil, 
but  they  have  plenty  of  land  there  and  are  mas- 
ters of  the  situation,  seeing  that  the  planters  are  more 
eager  to  get  them  than  they  are  to  work  for  the 
planters.  Nowhere  in  South  America  is  there  a prob- 
lem of  the  unemployed.  Whether  Chinese  or  Indian 
coolies  could  be  brought  into  the  Selvas,  and  whether 
if  brought  they  would  remain  under  the  control  of  the 
white  employers  who  had  imported  them,  are  questions 
which  may  one  day  arise.  Nothing  is  being  done  now 
to  exploit  these  regions  except  as  sources  of  wild  rubber 
supply.  But  it  seems  certain  that  coming  generations 
will  endeavour  to  turn  to  the  service  of  man  the  largest 
unused  piece  of  productive  soil  that  remains  anywhere 
on  the  earth’s  surface. 

Leaving  this  forest  wilderness  out  of  account,  and 
confining  our  view  to  the  near  future,  can  any  estimate 
be  made  of  the  probable  growth  of  population  in  South 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  563 


America  generally,  and  of  the  total  it  may  reach  by  the 
end  of  the  present  century? 

As  respects  the  temperate  regions,  there  exist  some  data 
for  a conjecture : Should  the  influx  of  immigrants  belong- 
ing, as  do  the  Italians,  to  a prolific  stock  be  maintained, 
the  countries  south  of  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn  may  in 
a.d.  2000  contain  at  least  one  hundred  millions  of  people. 

As  respects  the  equatorial  regions,  which  now  receive 
hardly  any  immigrants  and  in  which  the  natural  growth 
of  population  is  slow,  no  such  data  exist.  Considering, 
however,  the  material  development  which  is  going  on  in 
some,  and  may  be  expected  in  all,  of  them,  they  also  may 
probably  increase  in  population  which  would  bring  them 
from  twenty-eight  up  to  at  least  forty  millions.1  Were 
this  to  happen,  the  continent  would  have  by  a.d.  2000  a 
population  not  far  short  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  mil- 
lions. At  present,  with  only  about  forty-five  millions,  it 
has  much  less  than  half  the  population  of  North  America, 
now  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  millions.  The 
rapid  growth  of  North  America,  likely  to  continue  for  two 
generations  at  least,  may  make  the  proportion  between 
the  two  much  the  same  in  a.d.  2000  as  it  is  to-day. 

All  such  speculations  are,  however,  subject  to  the 
possibility  that  the  birth-rate,  either  in  the  temperate 
regions,  or  generally,  may  decrease.  Such  a decrease 
has,  as  respects  Australia,  thrown  out  the  calculations 
made  forty  or  fifty  years  ago.2 

1 1 include  English,  Dutch,  and  French  Guiana. 

2 In  Victoria  the  annual  rate  of  increase  per  cent  of  population 
which  in  1871  was  3.07  per  cent  was  in  1901  only  .48  per  cent.  In 
New  South  Wales  it  was  in  1871,  3.7  per  cent,  in  1901,  1.8  per  cent. 


564 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


More  important  than  the  quantity  of  a population 
is  its  quality.  Any  enquiry  as  to  what  that  of  the  South 
American  countries  will  be  when  they  are  tolerably  well 
filled  up  at  the  end  of  the  present  century  can  profitably 
address  itself  to  one  point  only,  viz.  the  several  races 
and  their  relations  to  one  another.  There  are  now 
three  races,  Whites  (of  Spanish,  Portuguese,  and  Italian 
origin),1  Indians,  of  many  tribes  speaking  different 
languages,  and  Negroes.  A very  rough  estimate  of  the 
racial  elements  in  the  whole,  continent 2 might  give  some 
such  results  as  these : — 

Whites,  15,000,000  (more  than  half  of  them  in 
Argentina  and  Uruguay). 

Indians,  8,000,000. 

Negroes,3  3,000,000. 

Mixed  whites  and  Indians  (mestizos),  13,000,000. 

Mixed  whites  and  negroes  (mulattoes  and  quadroons), 

5.700.000. 

Mixed  negroes  and  Indians  (zambos)  (chiefly  in 
Brazil)  perhaps  300,000. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  these  figures,  based 
partly  on  a comparison  of  those  given  in  various  books 
and  partly  on  enquiries  addressed  to  competent  observ- 
ers, are  given  as  only  a rough  approximation  to  the  facts. 
There  are  no  data  for  any  exact  estimate,  and  the  diffi- 

1 The  Italians  are  chiefly  in  Argentina,  Uruguay,  and  southern 
Brazil. 

2 There  are  also  some  East  Indian  coolies  in  Guiana,  perhaps 

100.000. 

3 The  negroes  are  almost  all  in  Brazil,  but  a few  exist  on  the 
coasts  of  Peru,  Colombia,  Panama,  and  Venezuela. 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  565 


culty  of  drawing  any  line  between  those  who  ought  to  be 
classed  as  pure  whites  and  those  who  ought  to  be  classed 
as  mestizos  or  mulattoes,  would  be  insuperable  even 
if  a regular  and  careful  census  were  taken.1  In  arriv- 
ing at  this  conjectural  estimate,  those  who  have  three- 
fourths  or  more  of  white  blood  are  counted  as  whites, 
those  who  have  less  than  three-fourths  as  mestizos,  or 
mulattoes. 

If  these  figures  are  somewhere  near  the  truth  it  will 
be  seen  that  if  we  deduct  8,000,000,  representing  the 
two  purely  white  republics  of  Argentina  and  Uruguay, 
we  shall  find  that  in  the  other  Spanish  republics,  taken 
together,  the  mestizo  element  is  much  larger,  and  the 
Indian  element  somewhat  larger  than  the  white  element. 
To  explain  the  practical  significance  of  these  figures  let 
me  repeat  what  was  said  in  an  earlier  chapter,  that  the 
mestizos  and  whites  are,  for  political  and  social  purposes, 
practically  one  class  and  that  the  ruling  class,  the 
Indians  being  passive,  and  in  a political  sense  outside 
the  nation.  Even  in  Paraguay,  an  almost  purely  In- 
dian state,  the  comparatively  few  mestizos  dominate 
politically.  In  Brazil  it  is  the  whites  who  rule,  but 
many  of  them  are  tinged  with  negro,  fewer  with  In- 
dian, blood. 

Four  questions  may  be  asked  regarding  the  racial 
future : — 


1 The  United  States  census  returns  do  not  attempt  to  discrimi- 
nate between  mulattoes,  quadroons,  and  octoroons ; all  are  reckoned 
as  coloured  ; and  no  doubt  a certain  number  of  quadroons  and  octo- 
roons pass  as  white. 


56G 


r SOUTH  AMERICA 


1.  Which  of  the  races  is  or  are  increasing  ? 

2.  Is  the  intermingling  of  races  likely  to  continue  ? 

3.  Which  type  predominates  in  persons  of  mixed 
race  ? 

4.  What  is  likely  to  be  the  ultimate  outcome  of  the 
mixture  of  races  ? 

1.  There  are  no  official  figures  supplying  an  answer 
to  this  question  as  regards  the  northern  and  the  Andean 
republics;  but  the  traveller  receives  the  impression 
that  the  Indians  are  more  prolific  than  the  whites, 
though  their  neglect  of  sanitary  conditions  gives  a high 
death-rate,  especially  among  children.  It  is  rare  to  see 
an  old  man  among  them.  If  either  they  or  the  mesti- 
zos are  now  increasing,  it  is  at  no  rapid  rate.  The  pure 
whites  in  Argentina,  Uruguay,  and  southern  Brazil  are 
certainly  increasing,  and  thus  the  proportion  of  white 
to  other  blood  in  the  continent  as  a whole  is  growing. 

2.  Everything  points  to  a continuance  of  the  process 
of  race  mixture.  It  is  the  rule  in  all  parts  of  the  world, 
except  where  religion  or  a strong  feeling  of  race  antago- 
nism (such  as  exists  in  the  United  States)  prevents  it. 
Neither  of  these  hindrances  exists  in  South  America. 
In  Peru  and  Bolivia,  however,  the  process  is  so  slow 
that  it  may  be  centuries  before  the  white  and  aboriginal 
elements  have  been  so  completely  commingled  as  to 
form  one  race,  and  leave  no  pure  Indians  remaining. 

3.  In  the  mixed  race  (mestizo  or  mulatto)  the  white 
element  seems  usually  to  predominate.  I do  not  state 
this  as  a physiological  fact.  It  may  or  may  not  be 
so ; nobody  seems  to  have  investigated  the  matter. 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  567 


But  it  is  true  as  a social  fact ; that  is  to  say,  the  mestizo 
deems  himself  a white,  wishes  to  be  a white,  tries  to 
live  and  think  as  a white,  and  is  practically  recognized 
by  others  as  a white.  This  is  not  equally  true  of  the 
negro,  because  he  is,  physically  regarded,  further  off  the 
white  than  is  the  Indian.  But  in  Brazil,  when  the  negro 
is  able  to  take  his  stand,  so  far  as  education  and  prop- 
erty go,  beside  the  white,  he  too  thinks  and  acts  like 
a white  man  and  is  so  treated. 

4.  The  facts  just  stated  make  it  probable  that  the 
nations  likely  to  emerge  when  the  process  of  fusion  is 
complete,  perhaps  at  a very  distant  date,  will  be  white 
much  more  than  Indian  nations.  Blood  is  only  one 
factor,  and  not  the  most  important  factor,  in  the  mak- 
ing of  men.  Environment  and  the  influence  of  the 
reigning  intellectual  type  count  for  more.  In  the 
United  States  the  child  of  the  Polish  or  Rouman  or 
Italian  immigrant  grows  up  as  an  American.  He  may 
be  a more  emotional  and  impulsive,  a more  violent  or 
more  criminal,  a more  artistic  and  sensitive  American ; 
but  the  stamp  of  the  new  country  is  on  him  So  ap- 
parently will  it  be,  so  at  any  rate  it  has  been,  with  the 
Indian.  Tinged  however  slightly  by  the  blood  of  the 
higher  race,  he  will  become  a Spanish-speaking  man  of 
the  colonial  kind,  which  differs  from  the  European  kind 
at  least  as  much  as  an  English-speaking  North  American 
differs  from  an  Englishman.  These  mixed  nations  will, 
however,  stand  nearer,  intellectually  and  socially,  to 
the  South  European  group  of  nations  than  to  any 
other  white  peoples. 


568 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


It  may  seem  natural  to  assume  that  such  mixed  na- 
tions will,  in  respect  of  their  aboriginal  blood,  be  in- 
ferior to  their  European  relatives.  But  this  is  a mere 
assumption.  No  one  has  yet  investigated  scientifi- 
cally the  results  of  race  fusion.  History  thrtfws  little 
light  on  the  subject,  because  wherever  there  has  been 
a mixture  of  races  there  have  been  also  concomitant 
circumstances  influencing  the  people  who  are  the  prod- 
uct of  the  mixture  which  have  made  it  hard  to  determine 
whether  their  deterioration  (or  improvement)  is  due 
to  this  or  to  some  other  cause.  So  in  these  countries 
there  may  be  reservoirs  of  dormant  strength  in  the 
ancient  native  races  waiting  to  be  opened  by  conditions 
better  than  fortune  has  given  them  since  the  days  of  the 
Conquest.  Who  knows  whether  when  the  fusion  is 
complete  the  Bolivian  of  two  or  three  centuries  hence, 
who  will  be  nine-tenths,  or  the  Paraguayan,  who  will 
be  nineteen-twentieths,  of  Indian  blood,  will  be  inferior 
to  his  neighbours  with  a smaller  aboriginal  infusion? 
The  Chilean  peasant  to-day,  who  is  at  least  half  Indian, 
is  not  inferior  to  the  Argentine  peasant,  who  is  almost 
pure  white. 

In  speaking  of  the  future  South  American  type  as 
likely  to  be  in  the  main  “Spanish-colonial,”  I do  not 
suggest  that  it  will  be  uniform.  Already  there  are  varia- 
tions in  character  between  the  peoples  of  the  several  re- 
publics ; and  these  are  more  likely  to  be  accentuated  than 
to  disappear.  The  different  extent  to  which  aboriginal 
elements  become  absorbed,  and  the  differences  in  those 
aboriginal  elements  themselves,  will  be  among  the  fac- 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  569 


tors  which  will  produce  what  may  be  called  national 
“ sub-types  ’ ’ of  character.  But  apart  from  such  causes  it 
seems  to  be  a general  — I will  not  say  universal — law  of 
social  growth  that  an  independent  political  community, 
even  if  originally  the  same  in  race,  religion,  and  habits 
as  its  neighbours,  tends  to  draw  apart  from  them,  and 
to  form  an  individuality  of  its  own,  creating  a national 
type  and  impressing  that  type  upon  its  members. 

Were  there  any  forces  compelling  these  various  re- 
publics to  close  political  alliances,  such  as  the  fear  of 
attacks  by  a Power  outside  their  continent,  they  might 
suppress  their  jealousies  and  ally  themselves  close  with 
one  another  and  realize  better  than  they  do  now  all  that 
they  have  in  common.  But  they  are  not,  and  are  not 
likely  to  be,  so  threatened.  Holland,  France,  and  Eng- 
land all  at  one  time  meddled  in  South  America,  but  all 
three,  while  each  retaining  a foothold  in  Guiana,  have 
long  ago  drawn  apart  and  left  Latin  America  to  itself. 
Politically  its  republics  live  in  a little  world  of  their  own ; 
they  have  their  own  alliances,  their  own  wars  and  bit- 
ternesses, with  whiqh  strangers  do  not  intermeddle.  Of 
wars  they  have  had,  since  1825,  their  full  share;  nor  is  the 
danger  of  war  yet  extinct.  No  states  seem  likely  to  unite 
with  one  another  of  their  own  free  will,  but  it  is  possi- 
ble that  smaller  states  may  be  annexed  by  or  partitioned 
among  some  of  the  larger  ones,  their  weakness  and  in- 
ternal disorders  furnishing  to  powerful  neighbours,  as  in 
the  famous  case  of  the  partition  of  Poland,  at  once 
the  temptation  and  the  pretext. 

As  the  Old  World  no  longer  interferes  with  the  South 


570 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


American  states,  so  they  are  unlikely  to  interfere  with 
the  Old  World.  They  have  never  proclaimed  any  such 
self-denying  ordinance,  and  have  not  hitherto  been 
strong  enough  to  make  it  seem  needed.  But  even  if 
any  among  them  becomes  a first-class  power,  small  is 
the  chance  that  it  can  acquire  interests  in  other  parts 
of  the  globe  that  would  collide  with  those  of  other  na- 
tions. Were  Colombia  and  Venezuela  strong  states 
owning  strong  navies,  there  might  be  Caribbean  ques- 
tions to  embroil  them  with  neighbouring  maritime  states. 
But  the  three  leading  powers  of  South  America  belong 
to  its  southern  half,  and  there  are  now  no  unoccupied 
countries  left  to  be  acquired  as  colonies. 

To  what  has  been  said  in  a preceding  chapter  regarding 
the  internal  political  conditions  and  political  pros- 
pects of  the  South  American  republics  little  need 
here  be  added.  He  who  studies  their  history  since 
Independence,  with  a knowledge  of  what  they  were 
when  it  was  assured  in  a.d.  1825,  will  find  nothing  sur- 
prising in  the  storms  that  have  buffeted  them,  nor  any- 
thing to  discourage  a hope  that  they  may  eventually 
reach  a smoother  sea.  The  moral  of  that  history  is 
that  nations  have  to  be  trained  to  self-government, 
just  as  individual  men  have  to  be  trained  to  every 
work  requiring  patience  and  skill.  The  error  into  which 
the  victorious  colonists  fell  when  they  expected  free- 
dom and  prosperity  to  follow  at  once  on  their  deliv- 
erance from  Spain  was  not  their  error  only.  It  was 
shared  by  their  friends  in  Europe  and  even  more  fully 
by  their  friends  in  North  America.  The  latter  had 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  571 


succeeded  in  establishing  efficient  state  governments 
and  thereafter  an  efficient  federal  government.  They 
attributed  this  partly  to  hberty,  i.e.  to  their  having 
broken  their  tie  with  a European  monarchy,  partly  to 
the  benign  influences  of  a new  Continent,  free  from  the 
evil  traditions  of  the  Old  World.  Many  among  them 
made  the  mistake,  which  no  intelligent  North  Amer- 
ican makes  now,  of  thinking  that  their  history  began 
in  1776,  the  mistake  of  ignoring  the  centuries  during 
which  their  ancestors  had  been  learning  the  principles 
of  self-government  in  England  and  the  century"  and  a 
half  during  which  they  had  been  putting  those  principles 
into  practice  in  the  older  colonies.  In  this  state  of  mind 
and  attaching  a magic  significance  to  the  name  of  a 
republic,  the  people  of  the  United  States  did  not  see 
why  Spanish  America,  which  had  imitated  them  in 
rejecting  a European  king  and  was  placed,  like  them, 
in  a new  land,  should  not  repeat  their  happy  experi- 
ences. Liberal  enthusiasts  in  England  and  France  and 
Italy  were  scarcely  less  sanguine.  None  of  them  real- 
ized that  Spanish  America  belonged,  in  1825,  to  an  age 
which  England  and  North  America  had  long  left  behind. 
Most  of  the  land  was  wilder  than  England  or  Germany 
had  been  in  the  twelfth  century,  a thin  population,  no 
roads,  settlements  scattered  here  and  there  in  forests  or 
deserts.  The  peasantry  were  further  back  than  those  of 
western  Europe  in  the  fifteenth  century,  not  merely  rude 
and  ignorant,  but  speaking  native  languages  and  soaked 
in  primeval  superstitions.  The  upper  class  were  further 
back  than  those  of  Europe  in  the  seventeenth  century, 


572 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


for  few  of  them  had  received  any  sort  of  higher  educa- 
tion and  none  of  them  had  any  personal  knowledge  of 
free  institutions,  or  any  experience  in  civil  administra- 
tion. Thus  both  classes  wanted  the  foundation  on 
which  free  governments  must  be  erected.  The  humbler 
class  did  not  know  and  could  not  know  how  to  elect 
representatives  or  supervise  those  whom  they  elected. 
The  upper  class  did  not  know  how  to  legislate  or  govern. 
They  tried  to  erect  a superstructure  of  complicated 
political  institutions  when  there  was  no  solid  founda- 
tion to  build  on,  when  only  a few  of  the  choicest  minds 
knew  what  order  meant  and  what  liberty  meant  and 
what  was  the  relation  between  the  two.  Such  experi- 
ments were  foredoomed  to  failure. 

The  troubles  of  these  ninety  years  have,  accordingly, 
nothing  in  them  that  need  dishearten  either  any  friend 
of  Spanish  America  or  any  friend  of  constitutional  free- 
dom. The  person  who  ought  to  reconsider  his  posi- 
tion is  the  man  who  holds  that  any  group  of  human 
beings  called  “the  people”  are  always  right,  that  the 
best  and  sufficient  way  to  fit  men  for  political  power  is 
to  give  it  to  them,  and  that  the  name  of  Republic  has 
the  talismanic  gift  of  imparting  virtue  and  wisdom  to  the 
community  which  adopts  it.  The  mistaking  of  names 
for  things  is  an  old  error,  and  has  sometimes  proved  a 
fatal  one. 

Yet  there  was  something  noble  in  the  over-sanguine 
confidence  of  the  North  American  and  European  lib- 
erals, as  well  as  of  some  of  the  finest  minds  among  the 
South  Americans  themselves  when  they  expected  free- 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  573 


dom  to  work  miracles.  The  ideal  of  liberty  that  these 
men  set  up,  though  rarely  realized,  has  never  been  lost. 
Servility  and  obscurantism  have  never  resumed  their  old 
sway  in  South  America.  And  as  it  is  true  that  men 
need  to  be  trained  to  self-government,  so  it  is  also  true 
that  men  never  become  fit  for  the  work  till  they  try  it. 
The  ninety  years  of  turmoil  have  not  been  altogether 
wasted.  Two  real  constitutional  republics  have  already 
emerged  from  it  and  their  example  cannot  but  tell  on 
those  others  who,  oppressed  by  less  favourable  condi- 
tions, still  lag  behind.  That  sort  of  progress  which 
consists  in  getting  rid  of  the  old  ideas  and  old  habits  of 
thinking  and  acting  and  replacing  them  by  better  ones 
must  needs  be  a slow  process.  Something  has  already 
been  done,  and  the  closer  and  more  frequent  contact 
with  Europe  and  North  America  into  which  these 
Spanish-American  states  are  being  brought  ought  to 
accelerate  the  process.  So  ought  the  additional  motives 
for  desiring  order  which  the  growth  of  material  prosper- 
ity brings  with  it.  Already  the  presence  of  foreigners 
imposes  a certain  check,  and  their  property  is  generally 
respected  in  revolutions.  The  more  the  citizens  acquire 
capital  and  themselves  enter  on  commercial  undertak- 
ings, and  form  business  habits,  and  get  to  look  at  things 
with  a practical  eye,  the  stronger  and  more  general 
will  grow  the  public  sentiment  that  insists  on  replacing 
the  reign  of  force  by  the  reign  of  law.  When  force  has 
been  eliminated,  the  task  of  making  governments  pure 
and  rooting  out  fraudulent  methods  will  become  less 
difficult.  It  is  a fair  conclusion  from  European  history 


574 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


that  violence  is,  of  all  the  evils  that  afflict  a state,  the 

evil  which  must  be  first  extinguished.  In  England,  a 

period  of  corruption  set  in  after  the  great  Civil  War 

had  ended,  and  the  forms  of  constitutional  government 

/ 

were  often  grossly  perverted,  but  corruption  and  per- 
versions ultimately  disappeared  with  the  growth  of  a 
higher  sentiment. 

Those  South  American  states  which  have  a large 
aboriginal  population,  even  if  they  cannot  become  — • 
and  is  it  desirable  that  with  such  a population  they 
should  become  ? — democracies  of  the  modern  type, 
may  at  least  try  to  secure  order  and  such  material 
prosperity  as  will  bring  them  into  closer  touch  with 
the  outer  world,  and  enable  their  peoples  to  learn, 
and  be  influenced  by,  the  ideas  and  the  methods  of 
government  that  prevail  among  the  great  nations. 

Intellectual  and  social  progress  were  both  in  the 
ancient  world  and  in  the  Middle  Ages  largely  due  to  the 
reciprocal  influences  of  nations  on  one  another.  As  the 
want  of  these  influences  retarded  the  movement  tow- 
ards civilization  of  the  Peruvians  and  Mexicans  before 
the  Conquest,  so  the  isolation  of  the  Spanish  Ameri- 
cans has  retarded  their  development  ever  since.  They 
stood  almost  entirely  outside  the  current  of  European 
thought  and  had  little  personal  contact  with  Europeans 
till  English  and  German  merchants  and  English  railway 
men,  and  North  American  mining  engineers  began  to 
come  among  them  from  about  1860  onwards,  and  till 
somewhat  later,  the  wealthy  Argentines  and  Brazilians 
found  their  way  to  Paris.  Although  this  contact  has 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  575 


brought  capital  in  its  train,  and  given  a start  to  material 
development,  it  has  been  a force  rather  among  the  peo- 
ple than  of  the  people.  It  comes  from  without  and  is 
pumped  into  them  like  oxygen  from  a tube.  It  touches 
only  one  section  of  the  inhabitants,  and  one  side  of  their 
life.  It  is  teaching  them  business  methods  and  all  that 
is  therein  implied,  but  it  affects  them  only  slightly  on  the 
literary,  or  scientific,  or  artistic  side.  This  is  of  course 
less  true  of  countries  like  Argentina  and  Chile  than  of 
the  smaller  northern  republics,  yet  even  in  the  former 
it  is  material  interests  that  are  dominant.  This  is,  no 
doubt,  in  our  day  true  of  all  European  countries  as  well 
as  of  North  America.  In  Europe,  however,  and  also 
in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  the  number  of  men  who 
occupy  themselves  with  science  and  letters  is  far  larger 
in  proportion  to  the  population  than  it  is  in  the  South 
American  countries,  and  the  provision  made  for  higher 
education  incomparably  more  ample.  Argentina  has, 
indeed,  not  only  the  University  of  Buenos  Aires,  al- 
ready staffed  by  able  and  energetic  teachers,  but  the 
older  and  more  ecclesiastically  coloured  University  of 
Cordova  and  the  new  University  of  La  Plata  and  its 
excellent  military  school,  as  Chile  has  its  university 
in  Santiago,  and  as  Uruguay  has  the  University  of 
Montevideo.  But  these  stand  almost  alone.  Isola- 
tion, as  well  as  poverty,  has  been  a cause  of  the  weak- 
ness of  these  organs  of  national  life,  a deficiency  which 
order  and  prosperity  ought  presently  to  remove  in  other 
states  as  they  have  in  Argentina. 

One  cause  of  the  isolation  I have  referred  to  is  found  in 


576 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


the  fact  that  there  has  been  comparatively  little  literary 
production  during  the  last  two  centuries  in  the  language 
which  these  nations  speak.  Spanish  is  no  doubt  what 
the  Germans  call  a “World  Speech.’’  It  is  now  used  by 
sixty  millions  of  people  in  the  New  World  as  well  as  by 
twenty  millions  in  Old  Spain.  But  Old  Spain  never 
supplied  to  her  colonies  through  books  anything 
approaching  the  volume  of  that  perennial  stream  of 
instruction  and  stimulation  which  English-speaking 
writers  have  for  nearly  four  centuries  supplied  to 
those  who  can  read  English  all  over  the  world,  and 
which  France  has  likewise  supplied  to  all  who  can 
read  her  language.  In  South  America,  men  now  learn 
French  in  increasing  numbers,  but  they  are  still  a 
small  percentage  of  the  educated  population  of  Spanish 
America. 

Of  the  eight  or  nine  millions  of  people  in  Ecuador, 
Peru,  Bolivia,  and  Paraguay  probably  one-half  are  not 
only  illiterate,  but  cannot  speak  even  Spanish.  These 
facts  constitute  no  reproach  on  the  peoples  of  these 
states.  They  are  a result  of  the  circumstances  attend- 
ing the  Conquest  in  the  sixteenth  century  and  of  the 
way  in  which  Spain  thereafter  administered  her  colonial 
empire. 

That  political  conditions  will  improve  during  the 
next  century  seems  altogether  probable,  and  although 
social  advance  must  be  slow,  especially  where  the 
native  population  is  very  large,  political  progress  is 
sometimes  unexpectedly  rapid.  To  anyone  observing 
England  during  the  Wars  of  the  Roses  civil  strife  might 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  577 


have  seemed  so  ingrained  a habit  as  to  be  likely  to 
last  for  generations.  Yet  after  the  accession  of  the 
first  Tudor  there  were  only  a few  slight  troubles  down 
till  1641,  when  a really  great  issue  appeared  which  had  to 
be  fought  out  and  was  fought  out  within  four  years.  So 
in  our  own  days  we  have  seen  a new  country,  Bulgaria, 
as  soon  as  it  was  delivered  from  a foreign  despotism,  step 
forward  towards  settled  government  with  a firm  tread 
which  surprised  all  Europe.  Democracy  in  the  North 
American  sense  may  be  still  far  distant,  but  a settled 
government,  maintaining  order,  giving  opportunities 
for  educational  and  social  as  well  as  material  improve- 
ment, and  responsible  to  the  opinion  of  the  more  educated 
classes,  may  be  much  nearer  than  the  never-ending, 
still  beginning,  troubles  of  the  last  ninety  years  have 
led  most  Europeans  to  expect. 

To  forecast  what  one  may  call  the  intellectually  crea- 
tive future  of  the  Spanish- Americans  is  far  more  difficult. 
Considering  themselves  not  Spaniards,  but  a new  people, 
or  peoples,  they  hold  that  views  or  predictions  about 
them  based  on  the  history  and  tendencies  of  Spaniards 
are  beside  the  mark.  Nevertheless,  as  the  other  race 
factors  — the  quality  of  the  aboriginal  element  and 
the  results  of  an  intermingling  of  the  aboriginal  with  the 
Spanish  colonial  stock  — are  obscure,  it  is  only  in  the 
Spanish  element  that  any  sort  of  basis  for  speculation  can 
be  found.  Now  the  Spanish,  or  so-called  Iberian,  race, 
more  or  less  Latinized  during  the  ages  of  Roman  domin- 
ion, and  slightly  Teutonized  by  the  Germanic  invasions 
of  the  fifth  century,  has  been  always  a strong  race.  It 

2 p 


578 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


was  strong  when  it  fought  against  Rome,  and  strong 
when  it  resisted  the  Moors  in  its  mountain  fastnesses 
and  drove  them  step  by  step  backwards,  and  ulti- 
mately out  of  the  peninsula.  It  produced  in  the 
Middle  Ages  and  afterwards  many  warriors  add  states- 
men of  the  first  rank.  But  the  genius  of  the  race  seems 
to  have  at  all  times  run  more  to  practical  life  than 
towards  intellectual  creation.  Twto  or  three  writers 
are  of  world  fame,  and  so  are  two  or  three  artists, 
without  reckoning  the  mostly  unnamed  or  unknown 
mediaeval  architects  who  reared  ecclesiastical  buildings 
of  unsurpassed  beauty.  Metaphysical  talent,  turned 
into  theological  channels,  gave  birth  to  some  dogmatic 
and  casuistical  writings  of  unquestionable  power.  Still 
the  total  quantity  of  literary  or  artistic  product  of  high 
excellence  is  small  when  compared  with  that  of  Italy  or 
France.  That  this  is  more  markedly  true  of  the  later 
seventeenth  and  the  eighteenth  than  of  earlier  centuries 
may  be  explained  by  the  extinction  in  the  sixteenth  of 
intellectual  freedom.  French  literature  still  flourished 
while  Spanish  was  sinking  under  ecclesiastical  censure. 

In  Spanish  America,  where  remoteness  from  European 
influences  darkened  the  firmament  still  further,  scarcely 
any  literary  or  scientific  work  of  permanent  merit  was 
accomplished,  though  the  fountain  of  pleasing  verse  did 
not  cease  to  flow.1  The  stormy  times  of  the  War  of 

1 The  country  which  has  of  late  years  produced  most  good  poetry 
is,  I believe,  Colombia.  Argentine  writers  have  distinguished  them- 
selves chiefly  in  the  sphere  of  theoretical  jurisprudence  and  inter- 
national law. 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  579 


Independence  and  the  domestic  turmoil  that  everywhere 
followed  gave  no  opportunities  for  acquiring  knowledge 
nor  any  leisure  to  use  it.  It  is  only  recently,  and  chiefly 
in  Mexico  and  in  the  southern  South  American  states, 
that  the  day  of  more  benignant  conditions  has  seemed  to 
be  dawning.  It  is  true  that  in  them,  as  political  conflicts 
subside,  material  interests  come  first  to  the  front,  and, 
like  a rank  growth,  so  cover  the  ground  that  not  much 
room  is  left  for  the  play  of  intellect  upon  matters  prom- 
ising no  direct  pecuniary  gain  to  the  nation  or  to  indi- 
viduals. This  was  to  be  expected  at  a time  when 
the  development  of  natural  resources  attracts  foreign 
capital  and  fills  the  minds  of  enterprising  men.  It 
is  the  salient  feature  of  the  life  to-day  of  Argentina, 
Uruguay,  and  Brazil,  and  to  a slighter  extent  of  Chile 
also.  But  it  need  not  be  permanent.  Just  as  in 
North  America  there  came,  not  long  after  the  Civil 
War,  a passionate  eagerness  to  found  universities  and 
extend  the  range  and  improve  the  efficiency  of  the  higher 
scientific  and  literary  teaching,  so  the  leading  men  in 
these  more  advanced  states  may  realize  the  need  for  bas- 
ing their  civilization  on  the  enlightenment  of  the  people. 
The  task  before  them  is  harder  than  that  which  the 
North  Americans  had,  because  their  system  of  elemen- 
tary and  secondary  education  is  far  less  complete.  With 
this  extension  of  higher  instruction  and  the  closer 
communion  of  the  best  minds  with  those  of  the  northern 
hemisphere,  there  may  at  any  time  come  an  outburst 
of  purely  intellectual  activity.  Prediction  is  so  much 
more  difficult  in  this  field  than  in  the  field  of  politics 


580 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


that  one  must  abstain  from  venturing  to  enter  it. 
Shrewd  observers  living  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century  were  able  to  foretell  some  sort  of  political  up- 
heaval as  approaching  in  France ; but  nobody  foretold 
the  flowering  in  Germany  of  the  great  literature  which 
began  with  Kant  and  Lessing  and  continued  in  Goethe 
and  Schiller,  Fichte  and  Hegel. 

The  traveller  in  South  America  who  confines  himself, 
as  many  do,  to  the  larger  cities,  finds  them  so  like  those 
of  Europe  and  North  America  in  their  possession  of  the 
appliances  of  modern  civilization,  in  their  electric  street 
cars  and  handsome  parks,  in  their  ably  written  press,  in 
the  volume  of  business  they  transact  — I might  add  in 
the  aspect  of  the  legislatures  and  in  the  administrative 
machinery  of  their  government  — that  he  is  apt  to  fancy 
a like  resemblance  in  the  countries  as  a whole.  But  the 
small  towns  and  rural  districts  are  very  far  behind, 
though  least  so  in  Chile  and  Argentina.  If  one  regards 
these  various  nations  as  a whole,  one  is  struck  by  the 
want  of  such  an  “ atmosphere  of  ideas,”  if  the  phrase 
be  permissible,  as  that  which  men  breathe  in  Europe 
and  in  North  America.  Educated  men  are  few,  books 
are  few,  there  is  little  stir  of  thought,  little  play  of  cul- 
tivated intelligence  upon  the  problems  of  modern  soci- 
ety. Most  of  these  countries  seem  to  lie  far  away  from 
the  stream  of  intellectual  life,  hearing  only  its  distant 
murmur.  The  presence  of  a great  inert  mass  of  igno- 
rance in  the  native  population  partly  accounts  for  this ; 
and  one  must  remember  the  difficulty  of  providing 
schools  and  the  thinness  of  a population  scattered 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  581 


through  mountainous  or  desert  or  forest-covered  re- 
gions. These  disadvantages  may  in  years  to  come  be 
lessened,  but  in  the  meantime  those  who  are  born  with 
superior  talents  are  born  into  an  ungenial  environment, 
ill-fitted  to  develop  and  polish  such  talents  to  their  own 
and  to  the  public  benefit.  The  traveller  finds,  now  and 
then  in  some  of  these  states,  gifted  men  who  would  be 
remarkable  in  any  country.  One  whom  I knew  in 
Mexico  years  ago  was  as  brilliant  and  as  accomplished 
in  many  lines  of  knowledge  as  any  person  I have  ever 
known.  But  it  takes  a large  number  of  such  men  to 
influence  a nation  and  guide  the  course  of  its  opinion. 
Men  of  marked  ability  abound,  but  their  talent,  like 
the  system  of  instruction  of  the  country,  is  directed 
almost  exclusively  to  practical  ends,  and  does  less  than 
it  ought  either  for  political  progress  or  for  the  expan- 
sion of  the  national  mind.  Their  interest  in  science  is 
almost  entirely  an  interest  in  its  applications,  and  their 
hero  is  the  great  inventor.  Science  and  learning,  pur- 
sued for  their  own  sake,  have  not  yet  won  the  place 
they  ought  to  hold.  Those  in  whom  a taste  for  philo- 
sophical speculation  or  abstract  thought  of  any  kind 
appears,  seldom  devote  themselves  to  patient  investi- 
gation. They  are  apt  to  be  captured  by  phrases  and 
formulas,  perhaps  of  little  meaning,  which  seem  to  give 
short  cuts  to  knowledge  and  truth.1 

1 One  is  told  that  the  European  books  most  popular  among 
the  few  who  approach  abstract  subjects  are  those  of  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer,  whose  influence  was  always  greater  in  the  South  European 
countries  and  in  Russia  than  in  England  or  the  United  States.  Those 
few  are  unwilling  to  believe  that  he  is  not  deemed  in  his  own  coun- 
try to  be  a great  philosopher. 


582 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


Another  fact  strikes  the  traveller  with  surprise.  Both 
the  intellectual  life  and  the  ethical  standards  of  conduct 
of  these  countries  seem  to  be  entirely  divorced  from 
religion.  The  women  are  almost  universally  “ practis- 
ing” Catholics,  and  so  are  the  peasantry,  thdugh  the 
Christianity  of  the  Indians  bears  only  a distant  resem- 
blance to  that  of  Europe.  But  men  of  the  upper  or 
educated  class  appear  wholly  indifferent  to  theology 
and  to  Christian  worship.  It  has  no  interest  for  them. 
They  are  seldom  actively  hostile  to  Christianity,  much 
less  are  they  offensive  when  they  speak  of  it,  but  they 
think  it  does  not  concern  them,  and  may  be  left  to  women 
and  peasants.  The  Catholic  revival  or  reaction  of  the 
first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  did  not  touch  Span- 
ish America,  which  is  still  under  the  influence  of  the 
anti-Catholic  current  of  the  later  eighteenth.  The 
Homan  Church  in  Spain  and  Portugal  was  then,  and 
indeed  is  now,  far  below  the  level  at  which  it  stands 
in  France,  Germany,  and  Italy.  Its  worship  was  more 
formal,  its  pressure  on  the  laity  far  heavier,  its  clergy 
less  exemplary  in  their  lives.  In  Spanish  America  the 
obscurantism  was  at  least  as  great  and  the  other  faults 
probably  greater.  There  was  not  much  persecution, 
partly,  no  doubt,  because  there  was  hardly  any  hetero- 
doxy, and  the  victims  of  the  Inquisition  were  compar- 
atively few.  But  the  ministers  of  religion  had  ceased 
not  only  to  rouse  the  soul,  but  to  supply  a pattern  for 
conduct.  There  were  always  some  admirable  men  to 
be  found  among  them,  some  prelates  models  of  piety 
and  virtue,  some  friars  devoted  missionaries  and  hu- 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  583 


manely  zealous  in  their  efforts  to  protect  the  Indians. 
Still  the  church  as  a whole  had  lost  its  hold  on  the  con- 
science and  thought  of  the  best  spirits,  and  that  hold 
it  has  never  regained.  In  saying  this  I am  comparing 
Catholic  South  America  not  with  the  Protestant  coun- 
tries of  Europe,  but  with  such  Roman  Catholic  coun- 
tries as  France,  Rhenish  Prussia,  and  Bavaria,  in  all  of 
which  the  Roman  Church  is  a power  in  the  world  of 
thought  and  morals.  In  eastern  Europe  the  Orthodox 
Church  has  similarly  shrivelled  up  and  ceased  to  be  an 
intellectual  force,  but  there  it  has  at  least  retained  the 
affection  of  the  upper  class,  and  is  honoured  for  its 
fidelity  during  centuries  of  Musulman  oppression.  In 
the  more  advanced  parts  of  South  America  it  seems  to 
be  regarded  merely  as  a harmless  Old  World  affair  which 
belongs  to  a past  order  of  things  just  as  much  as  does 
the  rule  of  Spain,  but  which  may,  so  long  as  it  does  not 
interfere  with  politics,  be  treated  with  the  respect  which 
its  antiquity  commands.  In  both  cases  the  undue 
stress  laid  upon  the  dogmatic  side  of  theology  and  the 
formal  or  external  side  of  worship  has  resulted  in  the 
loss  of  spiritual  influence.  In  all  the  Spanish  countries, 
the  church  had  trodden  down  the  laity  and  taken 
freedom  and  responsibility  from  them  more  than 
befell  anywhere  else  in  Christendom,  making  devo- 
tion consist  in  absolute  submission.  Thus  when  at 
last  her  sway  vanished,  her  moral  influence  vanished 
with  it.  This  absence  of  a religious  foundation  for 
thought  and  conduct  is  a grave  misfortune  for  Latin 
America. 


584 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


The  view  which  I am  here  presenting  is  based  chiefly 
on  what  I saw  in  Mexico,  Argentina,  and  Brazil,  the 
three  countries  in  which  there  is  a larger  educated  class 
than  in  the  less  populous  republics.  It  applies  in  a 
less  degree  to  Chile ; and  there  are,  of  course,  excep- 
tions in  the  three  first-named  republics  also,  though 
not  numerous  enough  to  affect  the  general  truth  of 
what  I am  trying  to  state.  The  phenomenon  is  all 
the  more  remarkable  because  in  the  days  when  America 
began  to  be  settled  there  was  no  part  of  Europe 
where  religion  had  so  strong  a hold  on  the  people 
as  it  had  in  Spain  and  Portugal.  The  Conquistadores, 
whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  influence  of  their 
faith  upon  their  conduct,  were  ardently  pious  in  their 
own  way.  Even  in  the  desire  they  professed  for 
the  propagation  of  the  faith  among  the  Indians,  they 
were  not  consciously  hypocritical,  though  they  never 
allowed  their  piety  to  stand  in  the  way  of  their 
avarice. 

The  fiery  vigour  of  that  extraordinary  group  of  men 
has  often  blazed  out  in  their  descendants.  It  is  the 
appearance  in  almost  every  state  of  men  of  tireless 
energy  and  strenuous  will  that  gives  their  chief  interest 
to  the  wars  and  revolutions  of  the  last  hundred  years. 
Few  of  these  men,  besides  the  heroes  of  Independence, 
such  as  San  Martin,  Belgrano,  Miranda,  Bolivar,  and 
Sucre,  are  known  to  Europe,  and  of  those  who  are 
known,  some  like  Francia  and  Artigas  and  Rosas  and 
Lopez,  have  won  fame  by  ruthlessness  more  than 
by  genius.  Of  late  years  the  leading  figures  have 


SOME  REFLECTIONS  AND  FORECASTS  585 


been  more  frequently  statesmen  and  less  frequently 
soldiers.  Both  types  are  honourably  represented  to- 
day in  many  of  the  republics.  There  is  plenty  of 
strength  in  the  race,  and  Juarez  of  Mexico  is  only 
one  of  many  examples  to  show  that  Indian  blood 
does  not  necessarily  reduce  its  quality.  Into  what 
channels  its  force  will  be  hereafter  directed,  and  whether 
it  will  develop  a gift  for  thought  and  for  artistic 
creation  commensurate  with  the  activity  which  it  has 
shewn  in  other  fields,  is  a question  upon  which  its 
history  since  1825  sheds  little  light.  The  wind  bloweth 
where  it  listeth. 

In  the  more  progressive  states,  conditions  are  chang- 
ing as  fast  as  anywhere  else  in  this  changeful  age. 
Here,  as  everywhere,  the  Present  is  the  child  of  the  Past, 
but  the  features  of  the  child  change  as  it  grows  up,  and 
all  we  know  of  the  future  is  that  it  will  be  unlike  the 
past.  No  countries  have  more  possibilities  of  change 
than  those  of  South  America.  European  immigrants 
are  streaming  into  the  southern  republics.  The  white 
race  is  commingling  with  the  aboriginal  Indians  in  the 
west  and  with  the  negroes  in  the  east.  Scientific  dis- 
covery is  bringing  its  latest  appliances  into  contact  with 
countries  still  undeveloped  and  with  peoples  long  left 
behind  in  the  march  of  progress.  Till  the  middle  of 
the  eighteenth  century  the  world  of  trade,  politics,  and 
thought  was  practically  a European  world.  It  then 
expanded  to  take  in  North  America,  then  southern  Asia 
and  Australia,  and  then,  last  of  all,  the  ancient  nations 
of  the  Far  East.  South  America,  which  has  hitherto, 


586 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


except  at  rare  intervals,  stood  outside,  has  now  begun 
to  affect  the  commercial  and  financial  movements  of 
the  world.  She  may  before  long  begin  to  affect  its 
movements  in  other  ways  also,  and  however  little  we 
can  predict  the  part  that  her  peoples  will  play,  it  must 
henceforth  be  one  of  growing  significance  for  the  Old 
World  as  well  as  for  the  New. 


NOTES 


Note  I.  The  reader  who  desires  fuller  information 
regarding  the  countries  treated  of  here  may  wish  to  be 
referred  to  some  books  in  English.  The  most  conven- 
ient general  historical  accounts  are  perhaps  to  be  found 
in  Mr.  Akers’  History  of  South  America,  1851^-1901^, 
and  in  Mr.  T.  C.  Dawson’s  The  South  American  Re- 
publics (2  vols.).  For  Peru  Sir  Clements  Markham’s 
History  of  Peru  is  still  the  best,  to  which  may  be  added, 
for  the  earlier  period,  his  recent  work,  The  Incas  of  Peru. 
Mr.  Scott  Elliot’s  History  of  Chile  is  useful.  The 
chapters  on  Peru  in  The  History  of  the  New  World,  by 
Mr.  E.  J.  Payne,  a scholar  of  great  talents  too  soon  lost 
to  historical  science,  contain  a thoughtful  study  of  the 
causes  to  which  the  progress  towards  civilization  of  the 
ancient  Peruvians  was  due.  The  two  books  of  Professor 
Moses,  The  Establishment  of  Spanish  Rule  in  America 
and  South  America  on  the  Eve  of  Emancipation,  are  fair 
in  spirit  and  throw  much  light  upon  topics  regarding 
which  little  has  been  written  in  English.  The  fullest 
and  most  careful  account  of  Peruvian  and  Bolivian  an- 
tiquities is  still  that  of  Mr.  Squier : Peru,  Travel  and 
Exploration  in  the  Land  of  the  Incas  (1877).  Of  more 
recent  works  of  travel  that  which  stands  first  in  the  field 
of  natural  history  is  John  Ball’s  Notes  of  a Naturalist 
in  South  America  (1887).  Among  others  of  a more 
general  kind  the  following  may  be  named  : Across  South 

America,  by  Hiram  Bingham ; The  South  Americans, 

587 


588 


NOTES 


by  Albert  Hale ; The  Other  Americans , by  Arthur  Ruhl  ; 
Uruguay,  by  W.  H.  Koebel;  Argentine  Plains  and 
Andine  Glaciers,  by  Walter  Larden  ; Panama,  by  Albert 
Edwards ; Argentina,  by  W.  A.  Hirst ; and  the  Ten 
Republics,  by  Robert  P.  Porter.  Sir  M.  Cbnway’s 
Travels  and  Explorations  in  the  Bolivian  Andes  is 
addressed  primarily  to  mountain  climbers,  but  contains 
much  that  is  interesting  to  other  readers  also.  A re- 
cent book  in  French  entitled  Le  Bresil  au  XXme  Siecle, 
by  M.  Pierre  Denis,  is  short,  but  singularly  clear,  well 
informed,  and  judicious. 

In  the  publications  issued  by  the  Pan  American 
Union  in  Washington  a great  deal  of  valuable  statistical 
information  brought  up  to  date  may  be  found.  The 
South  American  Supplements  issued  monthly  by  the 
London  Times  are  well  edited  and  constitute  a useful 
current  record  of  what  is  going  forward. 

Note  II.  Some  readers  may  also  wish  to  hear  what 
are  the  facilities  for  travel  in  the  parts  of  South  America 
covered  by  this  book.  There  are  now  many  well- 
appointed  railways  in  Argentina  and  Uruguay,  and 
a smaller  number  in  Chile  and  Brazil,  and  both  in  these 
and  other  states  the  work  of  construction  is  going  on 
steadily.  Roads  fit  for  driving  are  still  comparatively 
few  and  rough,  but  in  level  countries  like  Argentina  one 
drives  over  the  Pampa  wherever  wire  fences  do  not 
bar  the  way.  Travel  in  the  Andes  is  mostly  upon 
mule  back ; it  is  slow  and  has  become  expensive.  The 
capital  cities  of  the  republics  have  good  hotels.  In 
Arequipa,  the  larger  coast  towns  of  Chile,  and  three 


NOTES 


589 


or  four  of  the  Argentine  and  Brazilian  cities,  fair 
accommodation  can  be  had.  Elsewhere  it  is  very  poor, 
and  the  food  no  better.  The  scale  of  prices  is  every- 
where high,  but  most  so  in  Buenos  Aires  and  Monte- 
video, which  have  won  the  reputation  of  being  the 
most  expensive  places  in  the  world  to  live  in,  surpassing 
even  Petersburg  and  Washington. 

A great  deal  of  what  is  most  interesting  in  the  six 
republics  above  referred  to  can  now  be  seen  by  railway, 
and  if  a few  plain  but  fairly  comfortable  hotels  (such  as 
that  at  Santa  Rosa  de  los  Andes  on  the  Transandine 
Railway)  were  placed  here  and  there  upon  the  chief 
Peruvian,  Chilean,  and  Brazilian  lines,  journeys  along 
them  would  present  no  exceptional  difficulties.  There 
is  now  no  yellow  fever  except  in  Guayaquil  and  on  the 
Amazon  ; and  the  conditions  of  health  are  on  the  whole 
not  unfavourable.  Those  who  intend  to  travel  in  the 
loftier  parts  of  the  Andes  ought,  however,  to  satisfy 
themselves  that  their  hearts  and  lungs  are  sound. 

Note  III.  A remarkable  testimony  to  the  harm 
wrought  by  the  Spanish  Conquest  on  the  aboriginal 
inhabitants  of  Peru  may  be  found  in  the  will  of  Legui- 
samo,  one  of  the  last  survivors  of  the  Conquistadores, 
made  at  Cuzco  in  1589,  and  printed  in  Sir  Clements 
Markham’s  book,  The  Incas  of  Peru. 

“ I took  part  in  the  conquest  and  settlement  of  these 
kingdoms  when  we  drove  out  the  Incas  who  ruled  them 
as  their  own.  We  found  them  in  such  order  and  the 
Incas  governed  them  in  such  wise  that  there  was  not  a 


590 


NOTES 


thief  nor  vicious  man  nor  adulterer  nor  bad  woman 
admitted  among  them.  The  men  had  honest  and  use- 
ful occupations.  The  lands,  forests,  mines,  pastures, 
houses,  and  all  kinds  of  products  were  regulated  and 
distributed  in  such  sort  that  each  one  knew  hi£  prop- 
erty without  any  one  else  seizing  it,  nor  were  there  law- 
suits. The  operations  of  war,  though  numerous,  never 
interfered  with  the  interests  of  commerce  or  agriculture. 
All  things  from  the  greatest  to  the  smallest  had  their 
proper  place  and  order.  The  Incas  were  feared,  obeyed, 
and  respected  by  their  subjects  as  men  capable  and 
versed  in  the  arts  of  government.  ...  We  have  sub- 
dued these  kingdoms  and  we  have  destroyed  by  our  evil 
example  the  people  who  had  such  a government  as  these 
natives  enjoyed.  They  were  so  free  from  committing 
crimes  that  the  Indian  who  had  a large  quantity  of  gold 
in  his  house  left  it  open,  only  placing  a small  stick  across 
the  door  as  a sign  that  its  master  was  absent.  With 
that  according  to  their  custom  no  one  could  enter  or 
take  anything.  . . . But  now  they  have  come  to  such 
a pass,  in  offence  of  God,  owing  to  the  bad  example  we 
have  set  them  in  all  things,  that  these  natives  have 
changed  into  people  who  do  no  good  or  very  little.” 
Some  allowance  must  be  made  in  this  description  for 
the  disappointment  and  sadness  in  which  Leguisamo 
wrote,  as  appears  from  other  parts  of  his  will ; and 
other  evidence  at  our  disposal  shews  that  his  picture 
of  Peru  under  the  Incas  is  too  favourable,  yet  even 
after  making  these  deductions,  the  admission  of  the 
harm  wrought  by  the  conquerors  and  the  consequent 
decline  in  native  character  and  conduct  carries  weight. 


Greenwich 


Moaquitoi 


l N IPAD 


sJBuriiuisimetog 

o Merida  q (jrii 


HKITiISH 


_ SIERRA  \ 
jfACARAlMA 


EQUATOR 


EQUATj 


Chimborazo  V.Cotu 

Guayu.^ija  ECUADOR 
Golf  ».rV  0 Riobamba 
Gunyaqy  - — * 


J Belem 

(P“,u ) 


.Ceara 


a,«c, 


-Parabiba 

Pernambuco 

(Rrtile) 


Vlaceio 


jIHUl 

Callao* 


iberalta 


h ) 

.SoraljyTrlnldad  \o^IaU°  9roa8° 

y^Mt.llhfriani  y~ 

,l»CalPtt2  T 

r”oI!  O L I V I A 

Vv  ^cCocbabamba 


(Lite  Tit&ac a 


Plateau  of 
Matto  Grosso 


Sahame 


rV  I . V-  Potosi 
a \ fTarija0 


Paulo- 


TROPIC  OfIcaPRICORN 


Antofagueti 


San (os 


icioir 


$T. AMBROSE 


Tucuman\  Cor^en 


A***  jV- 

\ Porto  Alegre 


IS. CATARINA 


Longitude 


CARIBBEAN  SEA  ^ Antilles 
I s > >*> 


Cape  Frio 

Ilio  ile  Janeiro 

I ^ 


( 1 jfl/  .Cordoba  Santa  & 
l Mendoza0*^  1/ 

JUAN  FERNANDEZ  ^ ValP“ra,60k  WMi.Aconcagua  ^ V 

is.  » • Santiag  o Rosario> 

\ Tai Buenos  Aire 

\ ConcepcioX^Sl-  ^ ^ ^ 

\ TemuW^\^_^  BahialB 

ValdiviA  f^jj  L’/c 

-•  pPaysan thi  jjf  j / / 

^ /URUGUAY/  / / 

"VA^San  Jo^  f / / 

ss^®-fttontevideo  / s}  / 

Plata  Kiver  1 / 

\C.San  Antonio  / / 

C.Corrientes  f 1 / 

nca  Cai,  { / / 

\ Ap&fi  1 q \iLAIatias 

\ \ CHILOE  ' V} 

\ Oi  CHONOS  Vflv  — a/c.  of  Tuj 

\ ARCHIPELAGO! | ^ Ujulf  of  St.Ge 

\ Giil,r\>f  Pcna*^mm%o^  Tres 

\ CAMPANA  I m / 

r / 

o flays  / 

»rge  / 

'untag  / 

/ ^ / 

SOUTH  AMERICA 

Scale  of  Miles 

0 200  400  000  000  1000 

/ / / 

WELL**^  FALKLA 

QUEEN,  ADELAIDE  ARCh\pelAG0X^L_1a  ..WEff  £ 

\ s^TA  inez^^VST'ERR*  DE 

\ hoste^  Cape  Hot 

ND  ISLANDS  1 / / / 

,.  / / / 

L FUEGO  / _ / 

'•  / SOUTH  GEOdGIA^  / 

/ / / ; SANDWICH”  IS. 

/ /■// 
/ / / Williams/Eograting  Co.^.Y. 

I 


'U 


v :r  o o 


w ! 


cO-  ZZTT 


BOLIVIA 

AND 

PERU 

Stale  »f  Miles 


J 0 to  5,000  feet 
] 5,000  to  10,000  feel 
I 10.000  feel  and  over 
“Authors  Route 


Asuncion 


Santiago  del  Estcro 


.Corrientes 


Passa  Fundo 


Catamarca 


La  Serbia} 


Grande  do 


Mendora 


Valparaiso; 

Sant) 


Buenos 


San  Rafael 


Mont<  v ideo 


Talcahi 


W Ion  to 


PARTS  OF 

ARGENTINA 

URUGUAY 

AND 

CHILE 


p lar  del  Plata 
'Cape  Corrientes 


Pallia  Blanca 


S.  Malias  Gulf 


0 to  5,000  feet 

5.000  to  70,000  feet 

70.000  feet  and  over 
Author's  Route 


Puerto  Madrir 


INDEX 


A 

Aboriginal  population,  present  con- 
dition of,  in  Andean  regions,  ISO- 
186  ; the  Araucanians  in  southern 
Chile,  232-238;  of  Brazil,  367; 
influence  of,  on  differentiation  of 
various  parts  of  Spanish  America 
into  nations,  432-433  ; importance 
of,  as  a factor  in  all  parts  of  the  con- 
tinent except  Argentina  and  Uru- 
guay, 454  ff.  See  Indians. 

Achachila,  Mountain  Spirit,  186. 

Aconcagua,  Mt.,  57,  142,  214,  268 ; 
description  of,  257-258. 

Adams,  John  Quincy,  diplomacy  of, 
497,  508. 

Adobe  houses,  Payta,  41 ; at  Sicuani, 
88 ; in  Lake  Titicaca  region,  123. 

Agriculture,  in  Peru,  41-42,  78 ; of 
Indians  in  interior  of  Peru,  87-88 ; 
on  central  plateau  of  Peru,  120, 
122-124 ; importance  of,  to  Bo- 
livia, 193;  in  southern  Chile,  231, 
240 ; difficulties  of  practice  of,  on 
Falkland  Isles,  310;  in  Argentina, 
329-331 ; risks  to,  in  Argentina, 
from  drought  and  locusts,  333- 
334,  557 ; rank  of  Argentina  in 
agricultural  products,  336 ; in 
Uruguay,  354 ; in  Brazil,  403  ff. ; 
retardation  of,  by  the  unassimi- 
lated Indian  population,  475-476 ; 
suitability  of  Argentina,  Uruguay, 
and  southern  Brazil  for,  556-557. 

Aguas  Calientes,  town  of,  87. 

Aked,  History  of  South  America  by, 
587. 

Alakaluf  tribe  of  Fuegians,  294. 

Albatrosses,  seen  on  voyage  to  Straits 
of  Magellan,  287,  288. 

Alcaldes  of  Indian  villages,  91 ; 
powers  and  duties  of,  180-181. 

Alcohol  from  sugar-cane,  made  by 
Peruvian  Indians,  467. 

Alexander  VI,  Pope,  bull  of,  dividing 
New  World  between  Spain  and 
Portugal,  366. 


Alfalfa,  177,  202,  263,  334. 

Almagro,  Diego  de,  204,  218. 

Alpacas,  78,  81. 

Alpaca  wool,  122. 

Alps,  comparison  of  Andes  and,  277. 

Altars  of  churches,  Cuzco,  99. 

Altitude,  mountain  sickness  resulting 
from  high,  83  ; effects  of,  of  La  Paz, 
171-174 ; of  Ecuador,  Peru,  and 
Bolivia  a deterrent  to  immigration, 
555. 

Amazonian  plain  (the  Selvas),  369- 
370 ; future  of,  558-562. 

Amazon  River,  40,  369 ; forests  of 
the,  75-76,  393-394;  sources  of 
the,  86. 

American  Commonwealth,  cited,  340  n. 

Americas,  the  two : the  naming  of, 
484-487  ; names  which  might  have 
been  given,  487  ; physical  similar- 
ities between,  488—489;  points  of 
similarity  in  settlement  of  489- 
490  ; points  of  divergence,  490  ff. ; 
Latin  America  and  Teutonic 
America,  490 ; differences  in  the 
aboriginal  tribes,  491-492;  differ- 
ences in  climate,  in  discoveries  of 
mines,  and  in  class  of  immigrants 
to,  492-494 ; differences  in  the 
sphere  of  government  and  adminis- 
tration, 494-495 ; resultant  un- 
likeness of,  in  everything  but  posi- 
tion in  Western  Hemisphere,  495- 

496  ; effect  on  mutual  relations  of 
achievement  of  independence,  496- 

497  ; divergence  of  fortunes  of,  as 
to  wealth  and  population,  497-499  ; 
difference  in  the  formation  of 
nations,  — two  in  Teutonic  Amer- 
ica against  nineteen  states  in  Latin 
America,  499-500 ; points  of  re- 
semblance to  be  found  in  republi- 
can forms  of  government,  in  social 
equality,  and  in  detachment  from 
European  politics,  501-504 ; con- 
trasts between  people  of,  in  ideas 
and  temperament,  504-505  ; present 
attitude  of,  toward  one  another, 


591 


592 


INDEX 


507  ff. ; common  relations  be- 
tween, shown  to  be  wholly  wanting, 
507-520 ; the  Monroe  Doctrine, 
and  South  American  view  of,  508- 
510. 

Ampato,  Mt.,  57,  81. 

Anahuac,  Peruvian  Indians  compared 
with  those  of,  159,  160  ; plateau  of, 
compared  with  the  Andes,  278. 

Anarchist  propaganda  in  Argentina, 
343. 

Ancohuma  (Hanko  Uma),  peak  of, 
142. 

Ancon,  hill  of,  9-12. 

Ancon,  village  of,  27. 

Ancud,  channel  of,  239. 

Andenes,  terraces  in  Lake  Titicaca 
region,  122. 

Andes  mountains,  38,  39,  42,  47 ; 
description  of  peaks  of  Western 
Cordillera,  55-58,  60,  61,  63,  81, 
82 ; gold  in  the,  192 ; splendor  of 
scenery  of,  200-201,  203,  241-242; 
tunnel  through  the,  251,  256; 
trips  across  the,  252-261,  267-271  ; 
passage  of,  by  San  Martin’s  army, 
268,  280-281  ; the  Christ  of  the, 
summit  of  Uspallata  Pass,  269-270 ; 
descent  of,  on  open  trolley,  270- 
271 ; comparisons  of,  with  other 
great  ranges,  271  ff. ; as  a field  for 
mountain  climbers,  272  ; advantages 
of  distance  for  viewing,  272-275 ; 
why  an  unfavourable  field  for  land- 
scape painters,  275-276 ; compari- 
son of,  with  Himalayas,  276-277  ; 
comparison  with  Alps  and  North 
American  ranges,  277-279 ; ex- 
pense and  difficulty  of  travel  in  the, 
588. 

Andrez,  nephew  of  Tupac  Amaru, 
92. 

Animals,  on  Peruvian  highlands,  77- 
78,  81-82;  of  Bolivia,  177;  of 
forests  of  southern  Chile,  245 ; 
absence  of,  among  Fuegians,  294- 
295 ; on  Pampas  of  Argentina, 
325-326. 

Antarctic  current,  the,  38,  39,  43,  45, 
489. 

Antimony  mines,  87. 

Antiquities.  See  Ruins. 

Antiquity  of  Cuzco,  109  n. 

Antofagasta,  169,  202,  210,  211,  215. 

Antofagasta  and  Bolivia  Railroad, 
187,  189-190,  191-192. 


Araucana,  epic  by  Alonzo  de  Ercilla, 
236. 

Auaucanian  Indians,  159,  225 ; home 
of,  in  Central  Valley  of  Chile,  232- 
233 ; primitive  semi-civilization 
of,  233-234 ; maintain  their  inde- 
pendence against  the  Spanish,  233- 
235 ; Chile  asserts  authority  over, 
235-236 ; remain  the  one  uncon- 
quered native  people  of  South 
America,  236 ; estimates  of  former 
and  present  numbers,  236  ; inroads 
of  disease  and  drink  among,  and 
government  protection  of,  236- 
237 ; religion  of,  237-238. 

Araucaria,  conifer  of  southern  Chile, 
244. 

Arawak  Indians,  457. 

Areche,  Spanish  judge,  116. 

Arequipa,  Peru,  60 ; history,  60 ; 
altitude,  60  ; climate,  60-61 ; Har- 
vard Observatory;  at,  61;  scenic 
wonders  at,  62-64  ; houses,  streets, 
and  people,  64-66 ; Indian  la- 
bourers in,  66 ; an  ecclesiastical 
stronghold,  66-67 ; romance  of 
the  runaway  nun  at,  69-74  ; termi- 
nal of  Southern  Railroad  of  Peru, 
80. 

Argentina,  52 ; entrance  to,  across 
the  Andes,  251-260 ; contrasts  be- 
tween Chile  and,  264-265 ; rail- 
ways of,  264,  329,  337,  588 ; differ- 
ence as  to  interest  aroused  between 
Peru,  Bolivia,  and  Chile  and,  315, 
346 ; proportion  of  population  of, 
dwelling  in  Buenos  Aires,  322-323  ; 
natural  features  of,  324-325 ; the 
Pampas,  325-329 ; farms  and 
cattle  ranches  of,  329-331  ; allot- 
ment of  land  into  large  estates  held 
by  great  landowners,  331-333; 
Italians  in,  332-333,  339-340,  438, 
516-517  ; leading  agricultural  prod- 
ucts of,  336 ; cattle,  sheep,  and 
horses  in,  336  n. ; possibilities  of, 
as  to  growth  in  wealth  and  popula- 
tion, 337-338 ; composition  of 
population  of  the  country,  338- 
340 ; effect  on  future  of  nation  of 
European  commingling,  339-341, 
346-348 ; separation  of  church 
from  politics  in,  342-343 ; anar- 
chist propaganda  in,  343  ; relative 
positions  held  by  politics,  litera- 
ture, and  business  in,  344-346; 


INDEX 


593 


excessive  patriotism  of  people,  346  ; 
influence  of  geographical  position 
on  its  differentiation  as  a separate 
political  entity,  429  ; a true  nation 
by  the  test  of  possessing  a distinc- 
tive national  quality  and  a strong 
national  sentiment,  441 ; armament 
maintained  by,  449 ; slight  influ- 
ence of  Italians  on  political  and 
intellectual  life  of,  516-517 ; Brit- 
ish capital  invested  in  railways  of, 
517  ; a bona  fide  republic,  after  a 
troubled  and  sanguinary  political 
history,  544-545 ; pre-eminent  fit- 
ness of,  for  immigration,  556-557  ; 
universities  and  schools  in,  575; 
writers  on  theoretical  jurisprudence 
and  international  law  in,  578  n. 

Arias,  Pedro  de,  477. 

Arica,  169. 

Aridity  of  the  Pampas  of  Argentina, 
333. 

Armies  of  South  American  countries, 
449. 

Arrow  points  found  at  Tiahuanaco, 
148. 

Art,  displayed  in  altars  of  churches 
at  Cuzco,  99  ; lack  of  excellence  in, 
in  South  America,  99 ; ancient 
Peruvian,  106-107 ; inferiority  of 
ancient  Peruvian,  as  a whole, 
154. 

Artigas,  Jose,  savage  treatment  of 
prisoners  by,  548,  584. 

Ascotan,  201. 

Assassinations,  political,  in  South 
America  and  in  Europe,  548. 

Asuncion,  179. 

Atacama,  Desert  of,  204. 

Atahuallpa,  treachery  of  Pizarro  to, 
98,  192. 

Aullagas  Lake,  126,  190-191. 

Australia,  effect  of  Panama  Canal  on 
trade  to,  34  ; decreasing  birth-rate 
of,  563  n. 

Australian  gum  trees,  world-wide 
spread  of,  92-93 ; at  La  Paz,  176- 
177 ; on  the  Pampas,  335 ; in 
Montevideo,  353. 

Ausungate,  Mt.,  108. 

Avenida  Central,  Rio  de  Janeiro, 
381. 

Avenida  de  Mayo,  Buenos  Aires,  316- 
317,  346. 

Ayacucho,  battle  of,  166. 

Ayllu,  Indian  clan,  180. 

2 Q 


Aymard  Indians,  121-124;  traditions 
of  the,  149 ; at  La  Paz,  179,  182 ; 
one  of  the  two  divisions  of  Indians 
found  by  Spanish,  183-184 ; pres- 
ent condition  of,  460-462 ; iso- 
lated social  position  of,  474-475. 

Ayuntamiento,  municipal  council, 
535. 

B 

Bahia,  city  of,  400-401. 

Bahia,  battleship,  396-399. 

Balboa,  Vasco  Nunez  de,  1,  4,  8,  11, 
37,  283,  477. 

Balboa  Hill,  Panama,  8. 

Ball,  John,  Notes  of  a Naturalist  in 
South  America  by,  227,  289,  587. 

Ballivian,  Sefior,  178. 

Balmaceda,  President  of  Chile,  222  ; 
advanced  policies,  defeat,  and 
death  of,  544. 

Balsas,  boats  of  Totora,  Lake  Titi- 
caca, 125,  141. 

Bandelier,  Islands  of  Titicaca  and 
Koati  by,  quoted  and  cited,  63-64, 
142  n.,  185  n„  465-466,  467-468. 

Barley,  grown  on  central  plateau  of 
Peru,  120,  122. 

Barnevelt  Island,  293. 

Barrios,  Gerardo,  545. 

Bas  Obispo,  21. 

Bath  of  the  Inca,  Island  of  the  Sun, 
133. 

Beagle  Sound,  292. 

“Big Trees”  of  California.comparison 
of  South  American  trees  with,  245, 
391. 

Bingham,  Professor  Hiram,  ascent  of 
Coropuna  by,  57  n. ; cited  on 
antiquity  of  Cuzco,  109  n. ; Across 
South  America  by,  cited,  113  n., 
588 ; quoted  on  South  American 
view  of  Monroe  Doctrine,  509-510  ; 
on  number  of  North  Americans  as 
compared  with  number  of  Germans 
in  Brazil,  510  n. 

Biobio  River,  225,  227,  235. 

Birds  seen  on  voyage  to  Straits  of 
Magellan,  287-288. 

Birth-rate,  acceleration  of,  among 
immigrants  to  Argentina,  339,  566 ; 
decrease  in  the  world’s,  may  help 
to  solve  overpopulation  problem, 
554-555 ; unreliability  of  estimates 
based  on,  as  shown  by  Australia, 


594 


INDEX 


563 ; higher  among  Indians  than 
among  whites,  566. 

Blanco,  Guzman,  519,  525. 

Blanco,  Rio,  254. 

Boats  of  Indians  on  Lake  Titicaca, 
125,  141. 

Bogota,  52. 

Boleta,  weapon  of  Gauchos,  328. 

Bolivar,  Simon,  167 ; fame  of,  ex- 
ceeds merits,  507 ; Pan-American 
Union  project  of,  511  n. ; form  of 
government  favoured  by,  538,  540. 

Bolivia,  42,  57  ; distinction  between 
Peru  and,  purely  arbitrary,  121— 
122 ; reasons  for  lack  of  natural 
boundaries,  explained  by  history  of, 
166-167 ; named  for  Simon  Boli- 
var, 167  ; an  entirely  inland  state, 
167 ; people,  167 ; area,  popula- 
tion, and  towns,  168  ; railways  of, 
168-169,  186-187,  191-192,  193- 
194 ; minerals  of,  190,  192-193 ; 
necessity  of  railways  to,  for  sake 
of  cohesiveness  of  country,  193- 
194 ; the  risk  of  a future  parti- 
tioning of,  44S ; proportion  of 
Indians  ' in  population  of,  458 ; 
population  in  proportion  to  area, 
527  ; not  a country  for  immigrants 
to  turn  toward,  555. 

Bolson,  basin-shaped  hollow,  95. 

Borax,  lakes  of,  199 ; mining  and 
preparing  of,  199-200. 

Botafogo  Bay,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  381. 

Botanical  Garden,  Buenos  Aires,  319  ; 
Montevideo,  353-354 ; Rio  de 
Janeiro,  382. 

Bougainville,  colony  planted  at  Falk- 
land Isles  by,  312. 

Brazil,  area  and  aboriginal  Indians  of, 
367 ; mountains,  valleys,  and  in- 
land plain  of,  368-369  ( see  Selvas)  ; 
exportation  of  coffee,  372 ; won- 
ders of  scenery  of,  385  £f. ; charac- 
ter of  villages,  389-390 ; trees, 
flowers,  and  forests  of,  390-394  ; 
how  it  fell  to  the  Portuguese  to 
colonize,  401-402  ; negroes  in,  401, 
404-405,  408  ; account  of  different 
regions  of,  402  ff. ; proportion  of 
foreign  population  in,  407 ; politi- 
cal history  of,  410-411;  present 
political  conditions,  411-413  ; chief 
economic  and  political  issues  in, 
413 ; transitional  state  of  society 
in,  414  ; status  of  coloured  popula-  [ 


tion,  414-415,  479-480 ; financial 
standing  of  the  nation,  415; 
letters  and  oratory  in,  416-417 ; 
possibilities  of,  in  other  hands  than 
its  present  possessors,  420-421 ; 
characterized  by  true  national 
qualities,  441 ; armament  main- 
tained by,  449 ; slavfery  in,  456  ; 
effect  of  intermixture  of  blood  in, 
480 ; titles  of  nobility  in,  502  n. ; 
slight  influence  of  Italians  on 
political  and  intellectual  life  in, 
516-517 ; pre-eminent  fitness  of 
southern,  for  immigration,  556— 
557. 

Brewery,  at  Cuzco,  102 ; at  Valdivia, 
229. 

Brigandage,  decrease  in,  548. 

British,  at  Valdivia,  229  ; population 
of  Falkland  Isles  composed  of,  310 ; 
capital  invested  by,  in  Argentine 
railways,  337 ; in  Argentina,  340- 
341  ; capital  of,  in  railways  of  Uru- 
guay, 354-355  ; Santos-Sao  Paulo 
railway  line  built  and  owned  by, 
372 ; Leopoldina  railway  owned 
by,  386 ; capital  of,  invested  in 
South  America  generally,  517. 
See  also  English. 

Buccaneers,  English,  12,  15-16. 

Bueno,  Rio,  excursion  on  the,  242- 
243. 

Buenos  Aires,  city  of,  216  n.,  262 ; 
dulness  of  water  approach  to,  315- 
316;  general  appearance,  streets, 
houses,  etc.,  316-318;  business 
rush  and  social  gaiety  of,  318; 
docks  and  harbour  works  at,  319- 
320  ; shanties  in  suburbs  of,  320  ; 
outer  rim  of  pretentious  places, 
320-321  ; make-up  of  population 
of  city,  321-322  ; predominance  of 
Spanish  and  Italian  speech  in,  322  ; 
proportion  of  population  of  whole 
country  dwelling  in,  322-323 ; 
terms  used  to  designate  population 
of,  as  opposed  to  that  of  rest  of 
nation,  323  ; anarchists  in,  343  ; 
the  press  of,  344 ; numbers  of 
North  Americans  and  of  Germans 
in,  510  n. ; University  of,  575; 
expense  of  living  in,  589. 

Buenos  Aires,  viceroyalty  of,  166, 
327,  349. 

Building,  excellence  of  ancient  Peru- 
vians in,  154-155. 


INDEX 


595 


C 

Cabildos,  municipal  councils,  535. 

Caboclos,  half-breeds  called,  408. 

Cabral,  Pedro  Alvares,  366-367. 

Cachendo,  town  of,  56. 

Calama,  village  of,  202. 

Calcutta,  comparison  of  Botanic 
Garden  at,  with  that  at  Rio  de 
Janeiro,  382. 

California  poppy  about  Valparaiso, 
214. 

Callao,  46. 

Canal  Zone,  the,  4-35. 

Canary  Isles,  mummies  of  primitive 
inhabitants  of,  157  n. 

Candelaria,  celebration  of  feast  of, 
Copacavana,  129-130. 

Candido,  Joao,  mutineer  leader,  396. 

Cannibalism  in  ancient  Peru  and 
among  Amazonian  tribes,  157. 

Canning,  George,  diplomacy  of,  497, 
508. 

Cape  Horn,  293. 

Caracoles,  270. 

Cara  Indians,  159. 

Carbajal,  Francisco,  477. 

Carib  Indians,  456-457. 

Casas,  Bartolome  de  las,  464. 

Castro,  dictator  of  Venezuela,  525. 

Cathedral,  Lima,  48-49 ; Arequipa, 
65,  67 ; Cuzco,  97-98 ; La  Paz, 
175 ; Santiago,  217. 

Catholicism,  position  of,  in  Argen- 
tina, 342-343  ; effect  of,  on  attitude 
of  whites  toward  Indians  and 
negroes,  471-472 ; status  of  the 
Church  in  Spanish  America  gen- 
erally, 582-584. 

Cattle,  transportation  of,  across  the 
Andes,  252  n. ; breeding  of,  about 
Buenos  Aires,  321  ; on  Pampas  of 
Argentina,  327,  328 ; numbers  of, 
in  Argentina,  336  n. ; in  Uruguay, 
354. 

Caupolican,  Araucanian  chief,  184, 
235  ; memorial  to,  at  Temuco,  516. 

Cedars  of  southern  Chile,  245. 

Census  of  Peruvian  Indians  taken  by 
Viceroy  Toledo,  457. 

Central  America,  ruins  in  Peru  con- 
trasted with  those  in,  106,  113; 
to  be  grouped  with  South  America 
rather  than  North,  490 ; impossi- 
bility of  existence  of  a real  democ- 
racy in,  539. 


Cereals,  the  important  production  oi 
Argentina,  336. 

Ceremonial  dances  of  aboriginal 
tribes,  130,  185,  467-468. 

Cerro,  hill  and  castle  of,  Montevideo, 
353. 

Chachani,  Mt.,  56-57,  60,  62,  81. 

Chagres  River,  6,  7,  8,  15,  20-21, 
24. 

Challa,  Bay  of,  134. 

Charles  V,  Emperor,  12,  98,  284,  499, 
500. 

Charrua  Indians,  159,  355. 

Chenopodium,  120. 

Chibcha  Indians,  Bogota,  13,  457. 

Chicha,  drink  brewed  from  maize,  90, 
123,  467,  468  n. 

Chile,  52,  57  ; Peruvian  nitrate  prov- 
inces conquered  by,  42  ; peculiarity 
of  length  and  breadth  of,  205  ; 
mountains  and  valleys  of,  205-206  ; 
three  regions  of,  206-207 ; the 
nitrate  fields,  207-209  ; revenue  to, 
from  export  duties  on  nitrates,  209  ; 
large  estates  and  landed  aristoc- 
racy of,  220 ; predominance  of 
politics  in,  221 ; civil  war  in  (1890), 
222 ; party  divisions  and  an  elec- 
tion in,  222-223 ; description  of 
southern  portion,  223  ff.  ; coast 
towns  and  seaports  of  the  south, 
225-232 ; fusion  of  whites  and 
Indians  in,  232 ; immigration  into 
southern,  from  Europe,  239-240 ; 
lake,  river,  and  mountain  region  of, 
241-247;  contrasts  between  Ar- 
gentina and,  264-265  ; influence  of 
its  geographical  position  on  sepa- 
rate political  status  of,  429 ; a 
true  nation  in  possessing  a dis- 
tinctive national  quality  and  a 
strong  national  sentiment,  441  ; 
armament  maintained  by,  449 ; 
successful  working  of  real  republi- 
can government  in,  543-544  ; room 
for  increased  population  in,  557- 
558;  university  in  Santiago,  575. 

Chile  River,  60,  82. 

Chiloe,  island  of,  223,  239. 

Chimborazo,  Mt.,  40. 

Chimu  city,  ruins  of,  near  Truxillo, 
44,  153,  183. 

China,  slight  immigration  into  South 
America  from,  438 ; improbability 
of  danger  to  South  America  from, 
504. 


596 


INDEX 


Chincha  Islands,  guano  deposits  on, 
46. 

Chinchilla,  habitat  of  the,  200. 

Chingana,  Labyrinth,  on  Titi  Kala, 
136-137. 

Cholos,  half-breeds  at  Oruro,  190, 
195  n. 

Choqquequirau,  ruins  at,  113. 

Christianity,  attitude  of  Indians  tow- 
ard, 465-466. 

Christ  of  the  Andes,  statue  of,  256, 
269-270. 

Chucuito,  lake  of,  136  n. 

Chullpas,  on  Island  of  the  Sun,  133. 

Chuquisaca  (Sucre),  166,  167,  168, 
193-194. 

Church,  of  Company  of  Jesus, 
Arequipa,  67 ; at  Copacavana, 
129-130 ; at  Tiahuanaco,  148. 

Church,  the  Roman  Catholic,  sepa- 
ration of,  from  politics  in  Argen- 
tina, 342-343 ; party  antagonistic 
to,  in  Uruguay,  363-364  ; complete 
separation  of  state  and,  in  Brazil, 
’412-413 ; slight  influence  of,  on 
progress  of  South  American  coun- 
tries toward  national  life,  436- 
437 ; present  status  in  Spanish 
America,  and  causes,  582-584. 

Churches,  Cuzco,  98-99 ; La  Paz, 
174-175. 

Cities,  phenomenon  of  growth  of,  out 
of  proportion  to  that  of  the  coun- 
tries to  which  they  belong,  322. 

C16menceau,  Georges,  South  America 
of  To-day  by,  quoted,  412,  417. 

Climate,  on  coast  of  Peru,  38-39 ; 
at  Lima,  51  ; effect  of  differences 
in,  on  development  of  the  two 
Americas,  431,  492. 

Coal,  lignite,  at  Punta  Arenas,  300 ; 
lack  of,  in  Argentina,  336. 

Coast  Range,  western  South  America, 
81,  224,  225,  297;  of  Brazil,  381, 
384. 

Coca,  liquor  made  from,  89-90. 

Coca-leaf  chewing,  182,  467. 

Cochabamba,  168,  193. 

Cochrane,  Lord,  230,  280. 

Cockburn  Channel,  292,  298-299. 

Coffee,  exportation  of,  from  Brazil, 
372 ; description  of  a plantation, 
387-388 ; region  where  grown,  in 
Brazil,  403. 

Cog-wheel  railway  on  Transandine 
line,  252. 


Coillelfu,  town  of,  244. 

Collahuasi  copper  mine,  198. 

Collao,  country  called  the,  121, 
183. 

Collao  Indians,  86. 

Colombia,  17,  76 ; forests  of  coast, 
39 ; question  of  true  national 
qualities  of,  441-442 ; population 
in  proportion  to  area,  527;  poetic 

' output  of,  578  n. 

Colon,  city  of,  5,  11,  13,  23. 

Colour  line,  absence  of  a,  in  South 
America,  470-474,  479,  482. 

Columbus,  Christopher,  statue  of,  5 ; 
voyage  of  Magellan  as  compared 
with  voyages  of,  282;  belief  of, 
that  it  was  India  he  had  reached, 
484-485. 

Commerce,  effect  of  Panama  Canal 
on  European,  34. 

Concepcion,  225-226. 

Condorcanqui,  Jos6  Gabriel  (Tupac 
Amaru),  92,  116. 

Congresses  of  American  republics, 
611  n. 

Conquistadores,  undeniable  piety  of, 
584.  See  Pizarro. 

Conway,  Sir  Martin,  climbing  in  the 
Bolivian  Andes  by,  142 ; on  com- 
position of  mountains  in  Cordil- 
lera Real,  143 ; on  varying  effects 
of  rarity  of  air,  173 ; attempted 
ascent  of  Mt.  Sarpiento  by,  299 ; 
book  by,  588. 

Copacavana,  shrine  of  Virgin  of  the 
Light  at,  126,  129. 

Copan,  ruins  of,  comparison  of 
ruins  at  Cuzco  with,  106. 

Copper  mines,  Peru,  42 ; near  Aguas 
Calientes,  87 ; Bolivia,  189,  190, 
192 ; the  Collahuasi  mine,  198. 

Copper  smelting,  Corral,  229. 

Coquimbo,  39,  206,  211. 

Corcovado,  peak  of,  Rio  de  Janeiro, 
380. 

Cordillera  range  in  Peru,  55-58,  77- 
79. 

Cordillera  Real,  the,  127,  141-143. 

Cordova,  Argentina,  323,  326 ; Uni- 
versity of,  323,  575. 

Coronel,  port  of,  227. 

Coropuna,  Mt.,  57,  83. 

Corral,  town  of,  229—230,  280. 

Cortes,  516. 

Costa  Rica,  13,  503. 

Cotton,  production  of,  in  Argentina, 


INDEX 


597 


336 ; labour  on  Brazilian  planta- 
tions of,  404-405. 

Courtship,  South  American,  51. 

Criolloa,  the,  513. 

Criticism,  susceptibility  of  South 
Americans  to,  506. 

Croker  Peninsula,  292. 

Crooked  Reach,  Straits  of  Magellan, 
293,  297. 

Crucero  Alto,  the,  83. 

Cuahtemoc,  last  of  the  Aztec  kings, 
516;  statue  of,  516. 

Cuba,  influence  of  geographical  posi- 
tion on  its  status  as  a political 
entity,  429. 

Culebra  Cut,  Panama  Canal,  8-9, 
20,  21-22,  23,  24-25. 

Cumbre,  the,  267,  268,  280. 

Cusipata,  plaza  of,  Cuzco,  97. 

Cuzco,  54 ; position  as  an  ancient 
capital,  95 ; description  of  the 
present-day  city,  95-97  ; cathedral 
of,  97-98;  churches  at,  98-99; 
merits  and  demerits  as  a place  of 
residence,  100  ; University  of,  100- 
101 ; Indian  population  of,  101- 
102;  walls  at,  103  ff. ; walls  of 
Sacsahuaman,  106  n.,  107-112, 

118  ; proof  of  extreme  antiquity  of, 
109  n. ; rumours  of  subterranean 
passages  at,  110;  the  Rodadero, 
111;  the  Seat  of  the  Inca,  111-112  ; 
Sacsahuaman  probably  older  than, 
112-113;  other  ruins  of  walls 
about,  113;  horrors  of  Spanish 
rule  at,  115-117;  memories  and 
reflections  aroused  by,  117;  rail- 
way lines  to,  194 ; contrast  be- 
tween Santiago  and,  217. 

D 

‘‘Dago”  and  “Gringo,”  use  of  the 
words,  506. 

Dances,  primitive  heathen,  130,  185, 
467—468. 

Darwin,  Charles,  Voyage  of  the  Beagle 
by,  294  n. 

Darwin,  Mt.,  293. 

Davis,  John,  discoverer  of  Falkland 
Isles,  311. 

Dawson,  T.  C.,  The  South  American 
Republics  by,  587. 

Death  rate,  Canal  Zone,  29 ; a high, 
among  Indians  of  South  America, 
236-237,  457-458,  566. 


De  Lesseps,  Ferdinand,  4,  18. 

Delimitation  Award,  449. 

Democracies,  impossibility  of  exist- 
ence of  real,  in  Spanish  American 
states,  539. 

Denis,  Pierre,  work  on  Brazil  by,  588. 

Desaguadero  River,  126,  143-144 ; 
Indians  on  lagoons  of  the,  183. 

Deseado,  Cabo  (Cape  Pilar),  285, 
290,  291. 

Deserts,  40-41,  75;  in  Bolivia,  167, 
196 ; scenery  on,  196-197 ; of 
Argentina,  266-267. 

Desolation  Island,  291,  293,  295. 

Diaz,  Bartholomew,  283. 

Diaz,  Porfirio,  532  n.,  548;  auto- 
cratic government  of,  the  form  best 
suited  for  Mexico,  542-543. 

Dictatorships  in  young  South  Ameri- 
can republics,  538-539. 

Dominican  missionaries,  464-465. 

Drake,  Sir  Francis,  15,  17  ; attack  of 
Araucanians  on,  235 ; passage  of 
Straits  of  Magellan  by,  286. 

Dramas  of  ancient  Peruvians,  155- 
156. 

Dress,  of  Indians  of  Peru,  89 ; of 
Indians  at  La  Paz,  175-176 ; of 
Gauchos,  328. 

Drought,  the  risk  of,  in  Argentina, 
333,  557  n. 

Dry  farming,  330. 

Dumas,  Alexandre,  a saying  of, 
quoted,  490. 

Dungeness,  Cape,  Tierra  del  Fuego, 
305. 

Duties,  protective,  in  Brazil,  413. 

E 

Earthquakes,  freedom  of  Panama 
from,  24 ; prevalence  of,  at  Lima, 
48 ; at  Arequipa,  64  ; at  Valparaiso, 
203 ; at  Mendoza,  262 ; absence 
of,  at  Buenos  Aires,  317. 

Earth  Spirit  of  Indian  tribes,  185, 
466. 

Easter  Island,  figures  on,  compared 
with  figures  at  Tiahuanaco,  150. 

Eastern  Cordillera,  188. 

East  Indian  coolies  in  Guiana,  564  n. 

Ecuador,  39,  40,  76,  342;  question 
of  true  national  qualities  of,  442 ; 
not  a country  for  immigrants,  555. 

Eden,  Decades  of  the  New  World  by, 
303. 


598 


INDEX 


Education,  comparatively  small  pro- 
vision made  for  in  South  America, 
575 ; the  outlook  for  a wider,  579- 
580. 

Edwards,  A.,  Panama  by,  588. 

Elliot,  Scott,  History  of  Chile  by, 
587. 

Encomienda,  system  of  the,  455. 

English,  residing  at  La  Paz,  179  ; at 
Valparaiso,  215-216  ; adverse  crit- 
icism on,  quoted,  216 ; at  Buenos 
Aires,  321  ; in  Argentina,  340-341 ; 
in  state  of  Sao  Paulo,  377 ; lack  of 
sympathy  of  feeling  between  South 
Americans  and,  506 ; influence  of, 
restricted  to  commercial  relations, 
517-518.  See  also  British. 

English  names  of  headlands,  bays, 
and  channels  of  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan, 292-293. 

English  Reach,  Straits  of  Magellan, 
293,  298. 

Ercilla,  Alonzo  de,  Araucana  of, 
236. 

Espiritu  Santo,  Cape,  305. 

Estates  of  great  landowners,  Chile, 
220-221;  in  Argentina,  331-333. 

Eucalyptus  trees  in  South  America, 
92-93,  176-177,  335,  353. 

Evangelists,  islands  called,  290. 

Export  duties  on  nitrates,  209. 

F 

Falkland  Isles,  visit  to,  308-314; 
sheep  industry  predominant  on, 
310;  possibilities  for  development 
of,  310-311  ; chequered  history  of, 
311-312;  present  form  of  govern- 
ment, 312  ; impressions  of  nature 
obtained  at,  313-314. 

Farming  country,  Argentina,  329- 
330.  See  Agriculture. 

Ferro  Carril  Transandino,  251. 

Fevers,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  3; 
preventive  measures.  Canal  Zone, 
28-30  ; at  Guayaquil,  40. 

Fitzgerald,  E.  A.,  High  Andes  by, 
258  n. 

Fitzroy,  Cape,  292. 

Flor  del  Inca,  shrub  called,  133. 

Flowers,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  7 ; 
in  forests  of  southern  Chile,  243, 
244,  245,  246 ; of  Brazil,  391-394. 

Flying  fish,  43. 

Forests,  of  Colombia  and  Ecuador, 


39 ; of  the  Amazon,  75-76 ; of 
Brazil,  390-394  ; of  southern  Chile, 
241-247 ; of  the  _ Selvas,  558- 
560. 

Formosa,  Cape,  291. 

Fortifications,  Panama  Canal,  19, 
32-33. 

Francia,  Jos6  Gaspar  Rodriguez,  465, 
525,  584. 

Franciscan  monks,  Copacavana,  129. 

Frazer,  J.  G.,  Golden  Bough  by,  cited, 
159  n. 

Free  trade,  an  issue  in  Brazil,  413. 

French,  attempts  of,  to  construct 
Panama  Canal,  18,  31-32;  mining 
carried  on  by,  at  Pulucayo,  195 ; 
copper-smelting  at  Corral  by,  229  ; 
residing  at  Coillelfu,  244 ; on 
the  Falkland  Isles,  311-312; 
colony  at  Buenos  Aires,  321 ; 
in  Argentina,  340 ; in  state  of 
Sao  Paulo,  377 ; influence  of,  in 
things  intellectual  and  social,  518- 
520  ; spread  of  language  and  litera- 
ture of,  in  South  America,  576. 

Froward,  Cape,  293,  298,  305. 

Fuegian  Indians,  292,  294. 

Fury  Island,  293. 

G 

Gama,  Vasco  da,  voyage  of,  as  com- 
pared with  that  of  Magellan,  282. 

Garden,  at  Lota,  227-228 ; Botanical 
Garden  at  Buenos  Aires,  319; 
at  Montevideo,  353-354 ; at  Rio 
de  Janeiro,  382. 

Garden  Mountain,  the,  201. 

Garibaldi,  story  of  fighting  by,  in 
Uruguay,  358. 

Gatun  Dam,  6,  21-22,  23-24. 

Gaucho  horsemen,  Argentina,  321, 
328 ; in  Uruguay,  355-356 ; in 
Brazil,  406. 

Gavea,  Mt.,  383. 

Germans  in  South  America,  102 ; 
at  La  Paz,  179  ; at  Valparaiso,  215- 
216;  at  Valdivia,  229;  immigra- 
tion of,  into  Chile,  239,  438 ; at 
Osorno,  239  ; at  Buenos  Aires,  321  ; 
in  Argentina,  340-341  ; in  state 
of  Sao  Paulo,  377 ; large  number 
of,  in  Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  406  ; 
in  Brazil,  438 ; in  Uruguay,  438 ; 
a factor  to  be  reckoned  with  com- 
mercially in  Brazil  and  South 


INDEX 


599 


America  generally,  510  n. ; influ- 
ence of,  restricted  to  commercial 
relations,  517-518. 

Glaciers,  Andean,  84,  85 ; of  Cor- 
dillera Real,  141,  143 ; on  Mt. 
Illimani,  176;  on  Mt.  Aconcagua, 
249,  258 ; on  mountains  along 
Straits  of  Magellan,  295,  296. 

Goethals,  Colonel,  26-27,  30. 

Gold,  in  Peruvian  and  Bolivian  Andes, 
192 ; retardation  of  real  develop- 
ment of  Spanish  America  caused 
by,  493. 

Gold  Hill,  21,  25  n. 

Gorgas,  Colonel,  29. 

Governments  of  Spanish  American 
states,  effect  of  physical  conditions 
on,  527-528 ; of  racial  conditions, 
528-531  ; of  economic  and  social 
conditions,  532-534 ; of  historical 
conditions  during  the  colonial 
period,  534-536 ; of  historical 
conditions  at  close  of  War  of  Inde- 
pendence, 536-539 ; have  never 
been  real  democracies,  539-540 ; 
question  of  what  form  might  have 
been  preferable,  540-541 ; three 
classes  of  states  under  republican 
forms,  541-545 ; encouragement 
to  be  got  from  Chile  and  Argentina, 
543-546 ; states  still  unfitted  for 
popular  self-government,  547-548 ; 
leniency  called  for  in  judging 
Spanish  American,  549-551. 

Graham  Land,  284. 

Gran  Chaco,  the,  327,  329,  338,  478 ; 
plagues  of  locusts  emanating  from, 
334. 

“Gringo,”  use  of  word,  506. 

Guanacos,  in  Tierra  del  Fuego,  304 ; 
in  Argentina,  326. 

Guano,  42,  45-46 ; a source  of  evil 
to  Peru,  209. 

Guaqui,  Bolivia,  125,  144,  169. 

Guarani  Indians  in  Paraguay,  441, 
459. 

Guayaquil,  city  of,  40,  589. 

Guayaquil,  Gulf  of,  38-39,  40. 

H 

Hale,  Albert,  The  South  Americans 
by,  510,  588. 

Half-breeds,  in  Brazil,  407-408 ; 
social  status  of,  in  South  America, 
472-473 ; a negligible  quantity  in 


I North  America,  491-492.  See 

I Mestizos  and  Mulattoes. 

Hanko  Uma,  peak  of,  142. 

Harvard  Observatory,  Arequipa,  61. 

Hayti,  government  of,  542. 

Himalaya  Mountains,  comparisons 
between  Andes  and,  276-277. 

Hindus  in  British  Guiana,  438. 

Hirst,  W.  A.,  Argentina  by,  588. 

Horse-racing,  in  Chile,  221-222 ; at 
Buenos  Aires,  318,  345 ; in  Brazil, 
415. 

Horses,  importance  of,  in  Uruguayan 
insurrections,  359  ; found  on  Pam- 
pas of  Argentina,  327,  328 ; num- 
bers of,  in  Argentina,  336  n. 

Hotel  accommodations,  589. 

Houses,  adobe,  41,  88,  123;  cane  and 
reed,  Lima,  47-48 ; ancient  Peru- 
vian, 131-132. 

Huaca,  sacred  object  (fetish),  139. 

Huanchaca,  195. 

Huayna  Capac,  Inca  sovereign,  111. 

Huayna  Potosi,  Mt.,  142,  187. 

Huillca  of  ancient  Peruvians,  157. 

Humboldt  current,  the,  38,  39,  43, 
45,  489. 

I 

Ilacata , Indian  official,  180. 

lies  Malouines,  French  name  for 
-Falkland  Isles,  311. 

Illampu,  Mt.  (Sorata),  57,  134,  141- 
142. 

Illimani,  Mt.,  134,  142,  176,  177,  186, 
188. 

Immigration,  to  southern  Chile,  239— 
241 ; to  Argentina,  338-339 ; of 
Germans  and  Italians  to  Brazil, 
405-407 ; of  Portuguese,  Span- 
iards, and  Syrians,  407 ; slight 
effect  of,  on  national  differentiation 
in  South  America,  437-438 ; from 
Spain,  514  ; of  Italians  to  Argen- 
tina and  Brazil,  516  ; mountainous 
parts  of  Ecuador,  Peru,  and  Bolivia 
unsuited  for,  555  ; the  three  sec- 
tions of  South  America  to  be 
regarded  as  a field  for,  555 ; pre- 
eminent fitness  of  Argentina,  Uru- 
guay, and  southern  Brazil,  556— 
557  ; room  for,  to  Chile,  557-558  ; 
the  Amazonian  Selvas  considered 
with  a view  to,  560-562. 

Incas,  the,  41,  44,  45,  46,  60,  92,  94; 


600 


INDEX 


civilization  of  the,  78-79 ; ancient 
highway  of  the,  86 ; traces  of  empire 
of,  at  Cuzco,  102-118;  stories  of  the 
gold  of  the,  110;  depth  of  the  fall 
of  the,  114-115;  relics  of,  at 
Copacavana,  128-130 ; on  Sacred 
Isles,  Lake  Titicaca,  132,  133,  135— 
139  ; Sacred  Rock  honoured  as  the 
ancient  home  of  race  of,  139 ; 
traces  of  people  who  antedated 
the,  at  Tiahuanaco,  149-150 ; 
type  of  civilization  of,  compared 
with  that  of  Aztecs,  160 ; adminis- 
tration of  government,  roads,  rest- 
houses,  etc.,  of,  160-161 ; political 
astuteness  of,  161-162;  disastrous 
results  of  overthrow  of,  by  Spanish, 
162  ; destruction  of  people  of,  162- 
163 ; question  of  completeness  of 
development  of  semi-civilization  of, 
when  overthrown,  164-165 ; be- 
longed to  the  Quichua  race  of  In- 
dians, 183  ; naming  of  unusual  nat- 
ural phenomena  after  the,  258-259. 

Inca’s  Bridge,  the,  258-259. 

Indian  runners,  service  of,  under  the 
Incas,  60,  161. 

Indians,  prehistoric,  3,  13 ; of  San 
Bias,  13-14 ; on  Isthmus  of 
Panama,  13-14  ; at  Arequipa,  66  ; 
enslavement  of,  by  rubber  pro- 
ducers, 76,  458 ; as  shepherds, 
Peru,  81,  83;  of  towns  in  interior 
of  Peru,  84 ; at  Sicuani,  88-92 ; 
predominance  of,  at  Cuzco,  101- 
102 ; of  central  plateau  of  Peru, 
121-124 ; inferiority  of  Andean, 
compared  with  other  tribes,  159- 
160 ; in  Bolivia,  168 ; large  pro- 
portion of,  among  population  of 
La  Paz,  179 ; present  condition  of 
aborigines  in  Andean  regions, 
180  ff. ; tribal  organization  of, 

180- 181,  461-462;  Ilacatas  and 
Alcaldes  of,  180-181  ; illiteracy  of, 

181- 182,  468 ; indulgence  in  alco- 
hol and  more  especially  in  coca- 
leaf  chewing,  181-182 ; two  divi- 
sions of,  the  Quichuas  and  the 
Aymaras,  182-184 ; characteristics 
of,  184-185 ; religion  of,  185  ; feel- 
ings toward  white  men,  185-186 ; 
fusion  of,  with  white  race  in  Chile, 
232  ; the  Araucanians,  232-238  ; 
to  south  of  Araucanians,  238-239  ; 
on  islands  off  south  Chilean  coast, 


288,  478 ; along  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan, 294  ; of  the  Pampas  of  Argen- 
tina, 326,  327,  338 ; among  the 
police  of  Buenos  Aires,  343;  of 
Uruguay,  355  ; of  Brazil,  367,  369  ; 
statistics  of,  in  Brazil,  408  n. ; 
influence  of,  on  differentiating 
various  parts  of  Spanish  America 
from  one  another  into  separate 
nations,  432—433 ; have  nothing 
to  do  with  government  of  countries 
they  inhabit,  439,  469-470,  529; 
constitute  an  economic  factor  of 
the  first  magnitude  except  in 
Argentina  and  Uruguay,  454; 
attitude  of  Spanish  conquerors 
toward,  454-456 ; vast  differences 
in  qualities  of  aboriginal,  450-457 ; 
present  numbers  of,  457 ; propor- 
tion of,  in  population  of  Mexico 
and  South  America,  458^60  ; 
numbers  of  wild  tribes,  460 ; civil 
and  ecclesiastical  oppression  of, 
under  the  Spaniards  and  later, 
460-465 ; religion  of,  462-466 ; 
work  of  Dominicans  and  Jesuits 
among,  464-465  ; attitude  toward 
Christianity,  465-466 ; indulgence 
of,  in  drinking  and  dancing,  467- 
468  ; safety  of  white  people  among, 
468-469  ; relations  between  whites 
and,  in  Paraguay,  470-473 ; con- 
stitute separate  nationalities  from 
those  of  the  combined  white  and 
mestizo,  474 ; retardation  of  in- 
dustrial and  intellectual  progress 
by,  475-476,  580-581;  effect  of 
intermarriage  with,  on  the  Spanish 
stock,  476-477  ; Peruvian  Indians 
free  from  bloodthirstiness,  477 ; 
of  the  Selvas,  559  ; estimated  total 
number  in  whole  continent,  564 ; 
rate  of  increase  of,  566. 

Indios  bravos,  wild  Indians,  460,  470, 
530  n. 

Inquisition,  hall  of  the,  Lima,  50. 

Insurrections,  South  American  and 
other,  359-361,  362-363.  See  also 
Revolutions. 

Intensive  cultivation,  postponement 
of  fear  of  overpopulation  by,  554. 

Intermarriage,  of  w’hites  and  Indians 
in  Paraguay,  471 ; effect  of,  on 
quality  of  Spanish  stock,  476-477, 
530-531 ; between  whites  and 
negroes  in  Brazil,  480. 


INDEX 


601 


Invention,  lack  of,  in  ancient  Peru- 
vians, 155. 

Inventors,  esteem  of  Spanish  Ameri- 
cans for  scientists  as,  581. 

Iodine,  a by-product  of  nitrate,  208. 

Iquitos,  town  of,  559. 

Irrigation,  Lima,  47 ; at  Mendoza, 
263. 

Isabella  the  Catholic,  statue  of,  re- 
turned to  Spain,  515. 

Island  of  the  Sun,  Lake  Titicaca,  132- 
MO. 

Isthmuses,  interest  attached  to,  geo- 
graphically and  commercially,  1-2. 

Italians,  at  Mendoza,  263  ; increas- 
ing numbers  of,  in  Argentina,  264- 
265,  438;  in  Buenos  Aires,  321- 
322 ; as  labourers  in  Argentina, 
332-333 ; distribution  of,  in  Ar- 
gentina, 339 ; birth-rate  among 
immigrants,  339 ; question  of 
influence  of,  on  future  nation,  339- 
340 ; in  Uruguay,  355 ; in  Sao 
Paulo  and  Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  376- 
377,  406-407 ; slight  effect  of,  on 
political  and  intellectual  life  in 
South  America,  516-517. 

Italiaya,  Mt.,  368. 

J 

Japanese,  slight  immigration  of,  to 
South  America,  438  ; remoteness  of 
danger  from,  504. 

Jesuit  annalist  quoted,  63-64. 

Jesuits,  churches  of,  in  Peru,  67,  OS- 
99  ; mission  work  of,  among  the 
Indians,  464-465. 

Jockey  Club,  Buenos  Aires,  318. 

John  VI  of  Portugal,  410. 

Johnson,  Sir  H.  H.,  on  coloured  race 
in  Brazil,  408  n. 

Juarez,  Benito,  184,  521,  585. 

Jujuy,  town  of,  330,  478. 

Juliaca,  village  of,  84. 

Juncal,  town  of,  254,  270. 

Juncal  Valley,  the,  271. 

Jungle,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  6-7 ; of 
Amazonian  plain,  75,  76,  393-394. 

K 

Kaka  Aka,  Mt.,  142. 

Koati  (Koyata),  Island  of  the  Moon, 
Lake  Titicaca,  131-132. 


Koebel,  W.  H.,  Uruguay  by,  588. 

L 

Labourers,  Panama  Canal,  26  n.,  27- 
30 ; negro,  on  Brazilian  cotton  and 
sugar  plantations,  404-405 ; in 
coffee,  cattle,  and  cereal  regions  of 
Brazil,  405-407 ; importance  of 
Indian  population  as,  454. 

Ladrone  Islands,  Magellan  reaches 
the,  285. 

Lakes  in  southern  Chile,  246-247. 

Landowners,  class  of  great,  in  Chile, 
220-221;  in  Argentina,  331-333; 
absence  of  a middle  class  of  small, 
in  South  America,  532-533. 

La  Paz,  121,  141,  144;  population, 
168;  the  approach  to,  168-169; 
site  called  Our  Lady  of  Peace,  170 ; 
choice  of  singular  site  of,  170-171 ; 
altitude  of,  171  ; effects  on  stran- 
gers of  altitude,  172-174  ; streets, 
churches,  houses,  and  people,  174- 
176 ; fascination  of  strange  scenes 
and  scenery  at,  176-17S  ; museum 
at,  178  ; legislative  session  at,  178- 
179 ; contrast  between  Santiago 
and,  217. 

La  Plata,  University  of,  575. 

La  Raya,  pass  of,  85. 

Larden,  Walter,  work  by,  588. 

Las  Cuevas,  257,  267,  269. 

La  Serena,  town  of,  211. 

Las  Heras,  Colonel,  280. 

Latin  America  and  Teutonic  America, 
490.  See  Americas. 

Lautaro,  Araucanian  chief,  184,  235. 

Lemaire,  Neveu,  work  by,  cited,  191. 

Leopoldina  Railway,  386-390. 

Lignite  coal  near  Punta  Arenas,  300. 

Lima,  ancient  importance  of,  46-47  ; 
situation,  47  ; streets  and  houses, 
47-48 ; square  and  cathedral,  48- 
50 ; notable  buildings,  49-50 ; 
University  of,  50 ; climate,  50-51  ; 
gaiety  and  social  enjoyment  at, 

51- 52 : Spanish  air  retained  by, 

52- 53 ; lack  of  evidences  of  the 
past  and  lack  of  progress  at,  53  ; 
contrast  between  Santiago  and, 
217 ; society  in,  for  the  protection 
of  the  Indians,  470  n. 

Limon,  Bay  of,  6,  20. 

Linseed,  production  of,  in  Argentina, 
336. 


602 


INDEX 


Literature,  of  ancient  Peruvians,  155- 
156 ; place  of,  in  Argentina,  344 ; 
influence  of  the  French  on  South 
American,  518-519;  comparative 
smallness  of  output,  576;  out- 
look for,  578-580. 

Llai  Llai,  station  of,  251. 

Llamas,  Peru,  65,  77,  81,  86,  92,  94; 
droppings  of,  used  as  fuel,  121 ; 
at  La  Paz,  169,  176,  177. 

Loa  River,  202. 

Locks,  Panama  Canal,  22,  23,  24, 
31  n. 

Locusts,  plagues  of,  333-334,  557. 

Long  Reach,  Straits  of  Magellan, 
293,  295. 

Lopez,  Francisco  Solano,  465  n., 
525,  545,  584. 

Los  Patos  Pass,  268. 

Lota,  town  of,  227,  286 ; garden  at, 
227-228. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  quoted,  283. 

Lumbering  on  the  Amazonian  plain, 
559-560. 

Lusiad,  Camoens’,  416. 

Lynch,  Patricio,  230. 

Lynching  practically  unknown  in 
South  America,  480. 

M 

Macchu  Pichu,  ruins  at,  113. 

Machete,  cutlass-like  knife,  7,  385. 

Madre  de  Dios  River,  194. 

Magellan,  Ferdinand,  remarkable 
voyage  of,  282,  291-292,  305,  486; 
discovery  and  exploration  of  Straits 
of  Magellan  by,  284-286,  297- 
298,  299 ; great  geographical  im- 
portance of  voyage  of,  307. 

Magellan,  Straits  of,  discovery,  282- 
286;  Francis  Drake’s  passage  of, 
286 ; account  of  trip  from  Lota, 
Chile,  to,  286-290 ; entrance  to, 
from  the  west,  290-291  ; English 
names  of  headlands,  bays,  and 
channels  of,  292-293;  mountains 
along  the,  293,  295-297 ; First 
and  Second  Narrows,  304-305; 
general  physical  character  of,  305- 
307. 

Maine,  Sir  Henry,  work  on  Popular 
Government  by,  524-525. 

Maize,  on  central  plateau  of  Peru, 
120 ; in  Argentina,  336 ; in  Uru- 
guay, 351. 


Maize  Mother  in  Peruvian  mythol- 
ogy, 157. 

Malarial  fever,  Guayaquil,  40. 

Malthusian  theory,  question  of  cor- 
rectness of,  554. 

Mamelucos,  half-breeds  called,  407. 

Manaos,  town  of,  559.  / 

Manco  Capac,  Inca  sovereign,  108, 
137,  138. 

Manufacturing,  small  amount  of,  in 
Argentina,  336. 

Mapoche  Indians,  233,  236,  238. 
See  Araucanian  Indians. 

Maranon  River,  86. 

Markham,  Sir  C.,  works  on  South 
America  by,  147  n.,  587. 

Marriage  between  races,  471,  480. 
See  Intermarriage. 

Marriage  fees  imposed  on  Indians, 
461. 

Maule  River,  225. 

Maya  Indians,  13. 

Meat-packing,  Argentina,  336  ; Uru- 
guay, 354. 

Medanos,  sand  hills,  58-59. 

Medina,  Jose  Torribio,  historian  and 
bibliographer,  221. 

Megillones,  202,  210-211. 

Mendoza,  Spanish  governor,  249. 

Mendoza,  town  of,  249,  250,  253, 
256,  261,  280;  location  and  grow- 
ing importance  of,  261-262 ; de- 
scription of,  261-263 ; beauty  of 
scenery  at,  265-266. 

Mendoza  River,  262. 

Merced,  church  of,  Cuzco,  98-99. 

Mercedario,  Mt.,  altitude  of,  260  n. 

Mestizos,  half-breeds  of  Spanish  and 
Indians,  90-91 ; position  of,  re- 
garding Indians,  186 ; proportion 
of,  in  population  of  Mexico,  Peru, 
and  South  America  generally, 
458-460 ; social  status  of,  472- 
473  ; forceful  leaders  found  among, 
477 ; estimated  total  number  of, 
in  the  continent,  564 ; numerical 
predominance  of  (excepting  in 
Argentina  and  Uruguay),  565; 
rate  of  increase  of,  566 ; predomi- 
nance of  the  white  element  in, 
566-567. 

Mexican  War,  suspicions  of  South 
America  against  United  States 
aroused  by,  447,  497,  508. 

Mexico,  ruins  in  Peru  contrasted 
with  those  in,  106,  113;  the  quali- 


INDEX 


603 


ties  of  a true  nation  possessed  by, 
441 ; proportion  of  Indians  in 
population  of,  458 ; secret  idol 
worship  in,  466  ; characteristics  of 
Indians  of,  474  ; to  be  grouped  with 
South  America  rather  than  North, 
490 ; impossibility  of  existence  of 
a real  democracy  in,  539 ; suit- 
ability of  Diaz'  autocratic  form  of 
government  for,  542-543. 

Military  school,  University  of  La 
Plata,  575. 

Minas  Geraes,  state  of,  Brazil,  370. 

Minas  Geraes,  battleship,  396-399. 

Mineral  springs,  Aguas  Calientes,  87. 

Mines,  silver  and  copper,  Peru,  42. 

Mining,  at  Oruro,  Bolivia,  189 ; 
condition  of,  in  Argentina,  336 ; 
evils  to  early  Spanish  America 
resulting  from,  493-494. 

Miraflores,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  22, 
27. 

Misti,  volcano,  Peru,  56-57,  60,  61, 
63,  81,  82,  392. 

Mita,  personal  service  rendered  land- 
lords by  Indians,  462. 

Mitla,  comparison  of  ruins  of,  with 
ruins  at  Cuzco,  106. 

Mitre,  Historia  de  San  Martin  by, 
281. 

Mochica  Indians,  457. 

Mochica  language,  44,  183. 

Mollendo,  town  of,  54-55,  187,  215. 

Monolithic  gateway  at  Tiahuanaco, 
146-147. 

Monroe  Doctrine,  508-510. 

Montana,  district  called  the,  75. 

Montevideo,  314;  description  of, 
351-354 ; population,  352 ; Uni- 
versity of,  575 ; expense  of  living 
in,  589. 

Moon,  Island  of,  Lake  Titicaca,  131- 
132. 

Moon,  worship  of,  by  Peruvians,  157. 

Morgan,  English  buccaneer,  12,  15- 
16,  17. 

Moses,  Bernard,  works  by,  quoted 
and  cited,  463-464,  587. 

Mosquitoes,  preventive  measures 
against,  in  Canal  Zone,  28-29. 

Mountain  climbers,  Andes  consid- 
ered from  viewpoint  of,  272. 

Mountains,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  7-8 ; 
Andes,  38,  39,  42,  47 ; Western 
Cordillera  of  Andes,  55-58,  60,  61, 
63,  77-87,  198,  203  ; Coast  Range, 


81,  224,  225,  297 ; Cordillera  Real, 
127,  141-143  ; attitude  of  aborigi- 
nes toward,  in  the  way  of  names, 
142-143  ; Eastern  Cordillera,  188  ; 
along  Straits  of  Magellan,  293, 
295-297  ; Brazilian  Coast  Range, 
368 ; about  Rio  de  Janeiro,  379- 
381,  384-386.  See  also  Andes. 

Mountain  sickness,  83,  172. 

Mulattoes,  estimated  total  number 
of,  in  the  continent,  564  ; prodomi- 
nance of  the  white  element  in, 
566-567. 

Mummies,  Peruvian,  107,  157. 

Museum,  at  La  Paz,  178. 

Museums,  inferiority  of  South  Ameri- 
can, 376. 

Mussulmans,  negroes  of  Brazil  as, 
409  n. 

Mutiny  on  battleships  at  Rio  de 
Janeiro,  395-400. 

Mythology  of  primitive  Peruvians, 
156-159. 

N 

Napoleon  III,  theories  of,  concerning 
the  "Latin”  peoples,  512  n. 

Nassau  Bay,  293. 

Nations,  the  division  of  Spanish 
America  into,  422—424  ; question  of 
what  constitutes,  424-426 ; lines 
of  old  administrative  divisions  a 
primary  factor  in  determining  ter- 
ritorial limits  in  Spanish  America, 
427-428 ; influence  of  geograph- 
ical position  in  differentiating, 
429-430  ; influence  of  physical  en- 
vironment, 430-431;  effect  of  pres- 
ence of  aboriginal  tribes,  432-434  ; 
effect  of  War  of  Independence  and 
later  civil  wars,  434-436 ; effect  of 
conditions  of  industrial  and  com- 
mercial life,  437 ; position  of  dif- 
ferent Spanish-American  countries 
as  true  nations,  438  ff. ; judged  by 
the  test  of  possessing  a distinctive 
national  character  and  a strong 
national  sentiment,  439-443  ; test 
of  creative  activities  in  art,  science, 
and  letters  applied  to  South  Ameri- 
can republics,  443  ; question  con- 
cerning the  sense  of  a common  His- 
pano-American  nationality,  444  ff. 

Naval  harbour  of  Talcahuano,  Chile, 
226-227. 


604 


INDEX 


Navies  of  South  American  countries, 
449. 

Negroes,  West  Indian,  as  labourers 
on  Panama  Canal,  26  n. ; living 
in  Peru,  66 ; in  Uruguay,  355 ; 
in  state  of  Sao  Paulo,  376 ; in 
Bahia,  Pernambuco,  and  other 
cities,  401 ; in  Brazil,  401,  404- 
405,  408,  456 ; status  of,  as  com- 
pared with  coloured  race  in  United 
States,  414-415,  472-475,  479- 
480 ; influence  of,  felt  as  a race 
factor,  433-434 ; numbers  of,  in 
all  South  America,  459  n.,  564. 

New  Granada,  Republic  of,  17. 

New  South  Wales,  decrease  in  birth- 
rate of,  563  n. 

Newspapers,  Argentine,  344. 

Nictheroy,  town  of,  378,  390. 

Nitrates,  deposits  of,  42,  202,  206 ; 
account  of  work  in  fields,  207- 
208 ; export  duties  on,  209 ; 
question  of  benefits  of  this  natural 
wealth,  209-210. 

Nombre  de  Dios,  5,  14,  15. 

North  Americans  at  La  Paz,  179. 
See  under  Americas. 

Norway,  scenery  of  Straits  of  Magel- 
lan compared  with  that  of,  296. 

Novo  Friburgo,  town  of,  389. 

Nuestra  Senora  de  los  Dolores,  con- 
vent of,  Arequipa,  69. 

O 

Oca,  grown  on  central  plateau  of 
Peru,  120. 

Ocean  currents,  489. 

O’Higgins,  Bernardo,  230. 

Oil  wells,  Piura,  41. 

Ollague,  Mt.,  198,  199. 

Ollantay,  drama  of,  156. 

Ollantaytambo,  ruins  at,  113. 

Ornate,  volcano  of,  63,  64  n. 

Ona  tribe  of  Patagonian  Indians, 
303-304,  478. 

Orchids,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  7 ; 
in  Brazilian  forests,  393. 

Organ  Mountains  (Serra  dos  Orgaos) , 
381,  384-385. 

Oribe,  General,  357. 

Oriental  quality  in  Spanish-American 
cities,  65-66. 

Oruro,  town  of,  168,  183,  189-190. 

Osorno,  town  of,  224,  239. 


,Our  Lady  of  Peace,  original  name 

( given  to  La  Paz,  170. 

Overpopulation,  the  danger  of,  552- 
554 ; partial  solution  of  problem 
of,  by  intensive  cultivation,  devel- 
opments of  chemical  science,  and 
decline  in  birth-rate<  554-555 ; 
South  America  viewed  as  a means 
of  postponing  menace  of,  555  ff. 

P 

Pachacamac,  Earth  God  of  Peru- 
vians, 156. 

Pachacamac,  Peru,  excavations  at, 
153-154. 

Pacific  Steam  Navigation  Company, 
54. 

Paganism,  among  Andean  tribes, 
158,  467. 

Palace  of  the  Inca  Roca,  Cuzco,  104- 
105. 

Palace  of  the  Viceroys,  Lima,  49. 

Palace  of  the  Virgins  of  the  Sun, 
Koati,  132. 

Palacios,  Dr.,  Raza  Chilena  by, 
cited,  531. 

Palenque,  comparison  of  ruins  of, 
with  ruins  at  Cuzco,  106. 

Palermo,  park  at  Buenos  Aires,  318- 
319. 

Pampaconas  River,  ruins  on  the, 
113  n. 

Pampa  of  Peru,  58-59  ; of  Argentina, 
262,  266. 

Pampas  of  Argentina,  324-325 ; 
horses  and  cattle  on  the,  327  ; 
Gauchos  on  the,  328  ; agricultural 
possibilities  of,  333-334 ; monot- 
ony of  scenery,  334-335. 

Panama,  city  of,  9,  11,  12,  15-16,  19. 

Panama,  Isthmus  of,  1-36. 

Panama,  Republic  of,  14,  18-19, 
503. 

Panama  Canal , 4-5 ; French  at- 
tempts to  construct,  18 ; enter- 
prise taken  over  by  United  States, 
18-19  ; length,  breadth,  and  width, 
20 ; description  of  the  four  sec- 
tions, 20-23  ; the  Culebra  Cut,  20- 
22,  23,  24-26 ; the  Gatun  dam, 
23-24 ; labourers  and  conditions 
of  labour,  26  ff. ; mortality  rate, 
29 ; importance  of  sanitation  of 
Canal  Zone,  30 ; cost  of  canal,  32 ; 
fortifying  of,  32-33 ; effect  of,  on 


INDEX 


605 


international  trade,  33-35 ; the 
last  of  large  changes  in  earth’s 
surface,  35-36. 

Panama  Railway,  5-9,  12,  17-18. 

Pan  Americanism,  488. 

Pan  American  Union,  511  n. ; publi- 
cations issued  by,  588. 

Pan  de  Azucar,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  380. 

Pando,  General,  179. 

Paraguay,  question  of  true  national 
qualities  of,  441 ; despotisms  of 
Prancia  and  Lopez  in,  465 ; social 
relations  of  white  and  Indian  races 
in,  470-472. 

Paraguay  River,  326. 

Parahyba  River,  386,  387 ; scenery 
along  the,  388-389. 

Paramo,  bleak  regions  between 
valleys  in  Peru,  79  n. 

Parana,  state  of,  403. 

Parang  River,  167,  316,  326,  429. 

Paris,  the  Mecca  of  South  American 
pleasure-seekers,  519. 

Patagonia,  284 ; aborigines  of,  303- 
304,  327. 

Paterson,  William,  16. 

Patriotism  of  Argentines,  346. 

Payne,  E.  J.,  chapters  on  Peru  by, 
587. 

Payta,  Peru,  40-42,  54. 

Pearl  Islands,  10,  37. 

Pedrarias,  Spanish  viceroy,  11,  14. 

Pedro  I of  Brazil,  410 ; statue  of, 
376. 

Pedro  II  of  Brazil,  384,  410. 

Pedro  Miguel,  Isthmus  of  Panama, 

22. 

Pelucon,  the  word,  232  n. 

“ Penitentes”  in  the  Andes,  259-260. 

Peons  in  Argentina,  332. 

Peru,  coast  of,  37  ff. ; coast  towns, 
44 ; ruins,  44-45,  152  ff. ; moun- 
tains of  Western  Cordillera,  55-58  ; 
great  inner  plateau  of,  58-60 ; 
central  Peru,  77  ff. ; height  of 
central  plateau,  77  ; area  and  pop- 
ulation, 78 ; plateau  surrounding 
Lake  Titicaca,  119-124;  distinc- 
tion between  Bolivia  and,  purely 
arbitrary,  121-122 ; antiquity  of 
the  semi-civilization  of,  149-151 ; 
disadvantages  of  isolated  position 
of,  as  to  civilization,  151 ; reasons 
for  importance  of  prehistoric  re- 
mains in,  152—153 ; discussion  of 
religion,  mythology,  and  semi- 


civilization of  primitive  inhabi- 
tants of,  152-165 ; true  national 
qualities  possessed  by,  441  ; pro- 
portion of  Indians  in  population 
of,  458 ; not  a country  for  immi- 
grants to  turn  toward,  555. 

Peruvian  Corporation,  the,  80. 

Petrels  seen  on  voyage  to  Straits  of 
Magellan,  287. 

Petropolis,  384,  385. 

Philip  II  of  Spain,  4,  36. 

Pichu  Pichu,  Mt.,  56,  60,  62. 

Pigafetta,  Magellan’s  chronicler,  284, 
285;  quoted,  285-286,  303. 

Pilar,  Cape  (Magellan’s  Cabo  Dese- 
ado),  290,  291. 

Pinzon,  Martin  Alonso,  96,  367,  494. 

Pisac,  ruins  at,  113. 

Piura,  town  of,  41. 

Piura,  valley  of,  ancient  population, 
44. 

Pizarro,  Francisco,  11-12,  37,  39, 
44,  46,  47,  60,  96,  97,  102,  103  n„ 
192,  307,  494 ; assassination  of, 
49;  massacre  of  Atahuallpa’s  fol- 
lowers by,  98. 

Pizarro,  Gonzalo,  96,  170,  494. 

Plata,  Rio  de  la,  167,  284,  316,  486 ; 
advantages  to  Montevideo  from 
the,  351-352. 

Plaza,  La  Paz,  175. 

Plaza  de  Armas,  Lima,  48-49. 

Plazas,  Cuzco,  96-97. 

Politics,  interest  in,  in  Chile,  221 ; 
in  Argentina,  344 ; in  Uruguay, 
358-359. 

Polo-playing,  Valparaiso,  214-215. 

Poncho,  dress  of  Gauchos,  328. 

Poopo,  Lake,  124,  126,  190-191, 

488. 

Population,  growth  of,  of  cities,  322- 
323 ; questions  raised  by  the 
growth  of,  552  ff. ; forecasts  of 
growth  of,  in  South  America,  562- 
565 ; estimates  of  total  number  of 
whites,  Indians,  negroes,  mestizos, 
and  mulattoes,  564-565 ; of  the 
future  will  be  white  rather  than 
negro  or  Indian,  567-569.  See 
Races. 

Portenos  and  Campos,  Argentina, 
323. 

Porter,  R.  P.,  Ten  Republics  by, 
588. 

Port  Louis,  Falkland  Isles,  312. 

Port  St.  Julian,  303. 


606 


INDEX 


Port  Stanley,  Falkland  Isles,  308- 
309,  313. 

Portuguese,  in  Uruguay,  349,  350 ; 
explanation  of  possession  of  Brazil 
by,  366-367. 

Potatoes,  raised  on  central  plateau  of 
Peru,  120,  122. 

Potosi,  168 ; silver  mining  at,  192. 

Pottery,  Peruvian,  106. 

Prehistoric  monuments  at  Tiahuan- 
aco,  144-148.  See  Ruins. 

Protection,  economic  issue  of,  in 
Brazil,  413. 

Protector  of  the  Indians,  office  of, 
237. 

Puente  del  Inca,  258-259. 

Puerto  Bello,  5. 

Puerto  Montt,  206. 

Pulucayo,  mine  at,  195. 

Puna,  mountain  sickness,  172. 

Puno,  port  on  Lake  Titicaca,  84,  125. 

Puno,  the,  77,  84. 

Punta  Arenas  (Sandy  Point),  284, 
300 ; the  commercial  centre  of 
southern  South  America,  300-301. 

Q 

Quebradas,  narrow  glens,  of  the 
Andes,  224. 

Quiehua  Indians,  90,  101-102,  110, 
121 ; one  of  the  two  divisions  of 
Indians  found  by  Spanish,  183- 
184 ; present  condition  of,  460- 
462 ; isolated  social  position  of, 
474-475. 

Quinoa,  grown  on  central  plateau  of 
Peru,  120. 

Quipus,  knotted  strings  of  various 
colours  used  by  primitive  Peru- 
vians, 160. 

R 

Races,  mixture  and  numbers,  in 
Brazil,  407-410,  414-415 ; discus- 
sion of  relations  between,  in  South 
America  generally,  452-483 ; dif- 
ference in  relations  between,  in 
South  America  and  United  States, 
470-475  ; conclusions  on  relations 
of  the,  480-483 ; favourable  or 
unfavourable  results  of  commin- 
gling of,  530-531 ; total  population 
of  the  continent  according  to,  564- 
665 ; questions  as  to  their  respec- 


tive increase,  as  to  continuation 
of  their  intermingling,  as  to  which 
type  predominates  in  persons  of 
mixed  race,  and  as  to  ultimate 
outcome  of  the  mixture,  566-567. 

Rafts  of  Totora,  Lake  Titicaca,  125, 
141.  ✓ 

Railways:  Panama Ry,  5-9, 12, 17-18  ; 
in  Peru,  41,  54,  55-56,  59;  South- 
ern Railroad  of  Peru,  80-86,  125 ; 
Bolivian,  168-169,  186-187,  191- 
192,  193-194;  Chilean,  223-224, 
244,  588 ; Transandine  line,  249- 
261 ; Argentine,  264,  329,  337, 
588 ; British  capital  invested  in, 
337,  372-373,  517 ; Uruguayan, 
354,  588 ; line  from  Santos  to  Sao 
Paulo,  372-373 ; Sao  Paulo-Rio 
Janeiro  line,  377-378;  Leopoldina 
Railway,  386-390 ; facilities  for 
travel  by  means  of,  588. 

Rainfall,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  3 ; 
absence  of,  on  coast  of  Peru,  45 ; 
in  Chile,  224 ; at  Punta  Arenas, 
301 ; on  the  Pampas  of  Argen- 
tina, 325 ; smallness  of,  in  Argen- 
tina, 333. 

Reds  and  Whites,  parties  called,  in 
Uruguay,  357-359. 

Religion : of  primitive  Peruvians, 

156-159  (see  under  Indians) ; 
open  attacks  on,  in  Uruguay,  363— 
364 ; of  Indian  population,  462- 
466 ; a matter  for  women  and 
peasants  only,  582-584. 

Religious  toleration  in  Argentina, 
342-343. 

Republics,  division  of  Spanish  Amer- 
ica into,  422  fif. ; lack  of  success  of 
South  American  countries  as,  524- 
526;  impossibility  of  real  democ- 
racies existing  in  Spanish-Ameri- 
can  states,  539. 

Revolutions,  Lima,  51-52,  53;  in 
Brazil,  410-411 ; frequency  of,  in 
early  South  American  republics, 
524-525 ; breaking  the  habit  of, 
by  a growing  sense  of  order,  546. 

Rimac  River,  47. 

Rinihue,  Lake,  244,  246-247. 

Rio  Blanco,  station  of,  270. 

Rio  Branco,  Baron  do,  416. 

Rio  de  Janeiro,  216  n. ; description 
of,  378  fif. ; harbour,  378-379; 
mountain  landscapes  about,  379- 
381,  382-383 ; settlement,  and 


INDEX 


607 


growth  in  population,  383-384 ; 
comparisons  of,  with  ancient  and 
modem  European  cities,  394-395 ; 
account  of  mutiny  on  battleships 
at,  395-400. 

Rio  Grande  do  Sul,  state  of,  370, 
403,  405. 

Rivera,  General,  357. 

Roads,  of  the  Incas,  161 ; scarcity  of 
modern,  for  driving,  588. 

Rock  of  the  Sun  and  the  Wild  Cat, 
shrine  of,  island  of  Titicaca,  126. 

Rodadero,  the,  at  Cuzco,  111. 

Romero,  Dr.,  Los  Lagos  de  los 
Altiplanos  by,  191  n. 

Root,  Elihu,  common  Court  of 
Justice  for  Spanish- American  coun- 
tries set  up  through  efforts  of,  448 ; 
speech  by,  506  n. 

Rosas,  Juan  Manuel  de,  327,  329, 
477,  544-545,  584. 

Rosas  Pata,  ruins  at,  113. 

Ross,  Sir  James,  Antarctic  Expedi- 
tion of,  310. 

Rotos,  Chilean  peasants,  208,  232  n., 
253,  502. 

Rubber,  production  of,  on  Amazonian 
plain,  75-76,  403,  559;  cruelties 
perpetrated  upon  Indians  by  gath- 
erers of,  75,  458,  559. 

Ruhl,  Arthur,  The  Other  Americans 
by,  588. 

Ruins,  of  cities  on  coast  of  Peru,  44 ; 
of  Chimu,  44 ; of  walls  at  Cuzco, 
103,  105-106;  of  Sacsahuaman, 
106  n„  107-112,  118;  of  Ollan- 
taytambo,  Pisac,  Macchu  Pichu, 
and  Rosas  Plata,  113  ; on  Island  of 
the  Moon,  Lake  Titicaca,  131-132  ; 
Island  of  the  Sun,  132-133 ; at 
Tiahuanaco,  144-151 ; summing  up 
and  conclusions  on  subject  of,  151- 
165. 

Runaway  nun,  romance  of  the,  69- 
74. 

Rurales  organized  by  Diaz,  542. 

S 

Sacred  Isles,  Lake  Titicaca,  130-134. 

Sacred  lake,  a,  85-86. 

Sacred  tree  of  Araucanian  Indians, 
238. 

Sacsahuaman,  fortress  hill  of,  Cuzco, 
97;  walls  of,  106  n„  107-112,  118. 

Sahama,  Mt.,  188. 


St.  Dominick,  church  and  convent 
of,  Cuzco,  105. 

St.  George,  Cape,  289. 

St.  Paul,  Indian  village  of,  Lake 
Titicaca,  141. 

St.  Paul,  volcano  of,  201-202,  203. 

St.  Peter,  village  of,  141. 

St.  Peter,  volcano  of,  201-202,  203. 

St.  Philip,  fort  of,  Callao,  46. 

St.  Thomas,  legends  of  presence  of, 
in  South  America  and  Mexico,  138. 

Salt  marsh  on  plateau  of  southern 
Bolivia,  196-198. 

Salvador,  Republic  of,  503. 

San  Bias,  church  of,  Cuzco,  99. 

San  Bias,  Colombia,  Indians  of,  13- 
14. 

San  Cristobal,  hill  of,  Valparaiso, 

220. 

Sanctuary  of  the  Rock,  Lake  Titi- 
caca, 135. 

Sand  hills,  plateau  of  Peru,  58-59. 

San  Francisco,  church  of,  La  Paz, 
174-175. 

San  Francisco,  plaza  of,  Cuzco,  97. 

San  Isidro,  299. 

San  Martin,  General  Jos6  de,  49,  281 ; 
statue  of,  262 ; leads  army  across 
the  Andes,  268 ; account  of  pas- 
sage of  the  Andes,  280-281 ; trib- 
ute to  character  and  achievements 
of,  281,  522 ; form  of  republican 
government  favoured  by,  538,  540. 

Santa  Catharina,  state  of,  370,  403. 

Santa  Cruz  (de  la  Sierra),  168,  193. 

Santa  Lucia,  hill  of,  Santiago,  218- 

220. 

Santa  Rosa,  village  of,  Peru,  85. 

Santa  Rosa  de  los  Andes,  251,  252, 
2S0  ; hotel  at,  589. 

Santiago,  capital  of  Chile,  216  ff. ; 
striking  position  of,  216-217 ; 
description  of,  217-218;  hill  of 
Santa  Lucia  at,  218-220;  pre- 
dominating influence  of,  in  the 
nation,  220,  221 ; social  life  of, 
220-221 ; horse-racing  at,  221— 
222  ; an  election  in,  223  ; rainfall 
and  height  of  Coast  Range  at,  224  ; 
San  Martin’s  march  upon,  280 ; 
university  in,  575. 

Santissima  Virgen  de  la  Candelaria, 
image  of,  129-130. 

Santo  Domingo,  position  as  a sepa- 
rate political  entity  determined  by 
its  geographical  situation,  429. 


608 


INDEX 


Santos,  town  of,  371-372 ; coffee 
exported  from,  372. 

Sao  Paulo,  city  of,  216  n.,  372;  de- 
scription of,  374-377. 

Sao  Paulo,  state  of,  370,  403,  405. 

Scto  Paulo,  battleship,  396-399. 

Sarmiento,  Mt.,  299,  300. 

Schools,  inadequate  provision  for,  in 
Uruguay  and  South  America  gener- 
ally, 365 ; elementary,  in  state  of 
Sao  Paulo,  376. 

Science  and  learning,  forecast  con- 
cerning, in  South  America,  577- 
581. 

Scots,  settlement  of.  Isthmus  of 
Panama,  16 ; ubiquity  of  Aberdo- 
nians, 190;  on  Falkland  Isles,  310. 

Sculptures,  prehistoric,  at  Tiahuan- 
aco,  145-148,  154. 

Sea-birds,  coast  of  Peru,  43 ; seen  on 
voyage  to  Straits  of  Magellan,  287- 
288. 

Seals  on  coast  of  Falkland  Isles,  311. 

Sea  Reach,  Straits  of  Magellan,  293. 

Seat  of  the  Inca,  Cuzco,  111-112. 

Seebey,  F.,  cited,  344  n. 

Selvas  (woodlands),  168,  369;  as  a 
field  for  development  by  immigra- 
tion, 555,  558,  560-562 ; area  and 
surface  features,  558 ; vegetation 
on,  558-559;  Indians  of  the,  559; 
production  of  rubber  on,  559 ; 
timber  trees  on,  559-560. 

Serra  do  Mar  (Sea  Range),  372; 
trees  of  the,  390-394. 

Serra  dos  Orgaos,  381,  384-385. 

Setebos,  discussion  of  the  word,  303. 

Shakespeare,  material  found  by,  in 
account  of  Magellan’s  voyage,  303. 

Sheep,  farming  of,  in  Patagonia  and 
Tierra  del  Fuego,  300-301 ; on 
Falkland  Isles,  310 ; numbers  of, 
in  Argentina,  336  n. 

Shrines,  about  Lake  Titicaca,  126, 
129-130. 

Sicuani,  town  of,  88-92. 

Silver,  mines  of,  in  Peru,  42 ; mining 
of,  in  Bolivia,  189,  190,  192 ; ex- 
istence of,  a misfortune  to  Spanish 
America,  493. 

Slavery,  in  Brazil,  404-405,  456. 

Smyth’s  Channel,  288,  291,  292. 

Snowy  Range,  143. 

Soldier’s  Leap,  the,  254. 

Songs  of  Peruvians,  155. 

Sorata,  Mt.  See  Illampu. 


Sorata,  village  of,  141,  142  ; Spanish 
city  at,  destroyed  by  Peruvian 
Indians,  467. 

Soroche,  mountain  sickness,  83,  172. 

Southern  Railroad  of  Peru,  80,  125. 

Spain,  restrictions  placed  on  South 
American  trade  by, , 326,  513; 
relations  of  Spanish  Americans 
with,  513-516 ; literature  not 
supplied  to  her  colonies  by,  576. 

Spaniards,  in  Panama,  14-17,  35 ; 
atrocities  practised  by,  at  Cuzco, 
92,  115-117  ; fewness  of,  at  La  Paz, 
179;  in  Buenos  Aires,  321-322; 
in  Argentina,  338 ; immigration  of, 
to  Uruguay,  355 ; treatment  of 
aboriginal  population  by,  454-456  ; 
decrease  of  Indians  under  regime 
of,  457. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  popularity  of, 
among  philosophically  inclined 
South  Americans,  581  n. 

Spirit  worship  among  Indians,  63, 
157,  185,  466,  529. 

Squier,  Travels  in  Peru  by,  cited, 
467,  587. 

Stars,  worship  of,  by  Peruvians,  157. 

Staten  Island,  Argentina,  293. 

State  socialistic  propaganda  in  Uru- 
guay, 363-364. 

Statues,  absence  of,  of  the  Conquis- 
tadores,  515-516. 

Steamboats,  Lake  Titicaca,  125 ; 
on  Rio  Bueno,  242. 

Steamship  lines,  west  coast  of  South 
America,  42,  54 ; running  south 
from  Chile,  288-289  ; Pacific  Steam 
Navigation  Company’s  line  through 
Straits  of  Magellan,  308  n. ; be- 
tween Buenos  Aires  and  Italian 
ports,  51G;  activity  of  Germans  in 
running,  to  South  America,  517. 

Stock  exchange,  Valparaiso,  215. 

Straits,  interest  attached  to,  geo- 
graphically and  commercially,  1-2. 

Subterranean  passages,  reports  of 
famous,  110-111. 

Sucre  (Chuquisaca),  193-194. 

Suez  Canal,  comparisons  and  con- 
trasts between  Panama  Canal  and, 
2-4,  23  ; competition  between  Pan- 
ama route  and,  34. 

Sugar,  production  of,  in  Argentina, 
336 ; region  where  produced,  in 
Brazil,  403  ; labour  on  plantations 
of,  404-405. 


INDEX 


609 


Sugar  Loaf,  the,  Rio  de  Janeiro,  380. 

Sun,  Island  of  the,  Lake  Titicaca,  132- 
140. 

Sun,  worship  of,  by  aborigines,  113, 
157. 

Superstitions  of  primitive  Peruvians, 
158-159. 

Swamps,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  6,  9. 

Switzerland,  solidarity  of  govern- 
ment of,  despite  its  three  races, 
424-425,  531  n. 

Syrian  immigrants  to  Brazil,  407. 

T 

Talcahuano,  210,  225,  226-227. 

Taquia,  use  of,  as  fuel,  Peru,  121. 

Tarapaca,  province  of,  42. 

Tehuelche  Indians,  303. 

Temple  of  the  Sun,  Cuzco,  105,  113, 
114. 

Temuco,  231,  235. 

Teutonic  America  vs.  Latin  America, 
490. 

Tiahuanaco  (Tihuamacu),  ruins  at, 
144-151,  154;  builders  at,  ante- 
dated the  Incas,  149-150. 

Tibet,  comparisons  between  Peru- 
vian plateau  and,  119,  122. 

Tierra  del  Fuego,  300-304. 

Tijuca,  Mt.,  382. 

Times,  London,  South  American 
Supplements,  588. 

Tin  mining,  Bolivia,  189,  190,  192. 

Tiquina,  Straits  of,  141. 

Tirapata,  town  of,  84,  194. 

Titicaca,  Lake,  54,  82,  84,  86,  488 ; 
altitude  of,  119;  area  and  shape, 
120  ; coasts,  depth,  waters,  fauna 
and  flora,  124-125 ; purity  of 
water,  126  ; native  craft  on,  125  ; 
steamboats  on,  125  ; shrines  about, 
126 ; colour  of,  126-127 ; Sacred 
Islands  in,  130-140 ; evidence  of 
waters  of,  receding,  144. 

Titicaca  Island,  illiteracy  of  Indians 
on,  181. 

Titi  Kala,  Sacred  Rock,  at  Lake 
Titicaca,  135-140. 

Titles  of  nobility  in  Latin  America, 
502  n. 

Tocantins  River,  558. 

Toledo,  Francisco  de,  115;  census  of 
Peruvian  Indians  taken  by,  457. 

Tolls,  Panama  Canal,  33,  34. 

Tolorsa,  Mt.,  268-269. 

2 r 


Totora,  water  plant  on  Lake  Titicaca, 
125 ; native  craft  made  of,  125, 
141. 

Trade,  effect  of  Panama  Canal  on 
international,  33-35. 

Trade  restrictions  imposed  by  Spain, 
326,  513. 

Transandine  railway  line,  249-261  ; 
effect  of,  on  traffic  via  Straits  of 
Magellan,  301. 

Travel , facilities  for,  in  South  America, 
588-589.  See  Railways,  Steam- 
ship lines,  etc. 

Trees,  Isthmus  of  Panama,  5-6 ; 
of  the  Montana,  75,  76 ; on  central 
plateau  of  Peru,  120 ; of  southern 
Chile,  244-246;  Brazilian,  390- 
394  ; of  the  Selvas,  558-560. 

Tres  Montes,  headland  of,  289. 

Trevelyan,  G.  M.,  work  by,  cited, 
358  n. 

Trolley  ride  down  the  Andes,  270- 
271. 

Trumajo,  town  of,  242. 

Truxillo,  town  of,  44 ; ruins  of 
Chimu  city  near,  153-154. 

Tuberculosis,  among  Araucanian  In- 
dians, 237  ; among  the  Onas,  478. 

Tucuman,  town  of,  326,  330,  478. 

Tumbez,  town  of,  39. 

Tunnel  through  the  Andes,  251,  256. 

Tupac  Amaru,  last  of  the  Inca  line, 
92,  115,  466-467,  514. 

Tupac  Amaru,  a second,  92,  116. 

Tupiza,  191. 

Tupungato,  Mt.,  254,  268,  392 ; alti- 
tude and  description,  260. 

Tussock  grass,  Falkland  Isles,  310. 

U 

Ubinas,  volcano  of,  64  n.,  82. 

Ucayali  River,  86. 

Ulloa,  Antonio,  463  n. 

Ulloa,  Juan,  quoted  on  Indians  of 
Peru  and  Ecuador,  463. 

Underground  passages,  legends  of, 
110-111. 

United  States,  people  from,  in  Buenos 
Aires,  321 ; suspicious  watch  kept 
on  actions  of,  by  South  American 
countries,  447,  497 ; influence  of, 
used  to  avert  hostilities  between 
South  American  states,  449—450; 
difference  in  relations  between 
races  in  South  America  and,  470- 


610 


INDEX 


475  ; causes  of  differences  between 
South  American  republics  and, 
traced  from  early  settlement, 
488  ff. ; little  change  in  relations 
resulting  from  achievement  of  in- 
dependence by  both  South  Amer- 
ica and,  496-497 ; complete 
divergence  of  fortunes  of,  and 
causes,  497-500 ; sole  point  of 
resemblance  to-day  their  location 
in  New  World,  501 ; states-system 
of,  has  been  the  same  as  South 
American  republics’,  502-503  ; de- 
parture of,  from  original  policy 
in  conquering  the  Philippines  and 
annexing  Pacific  islands,  502 ; 
sympathy  of,  extended  to  Spanish 
colonies  in  revolt  against  Spain, 
507,  524 ; Constitution  of,  taken 
as  a model  by  new  republics  in 
Spanish  America,  508,  538  ; pres- 
ent South  American  view  of 
Monroe  Doctrine  of,  508-510 ; 
general  attitude  of  South  Ameri- 
cans toward,  510-512. 

Universities  in  Argentina,  Uruguay, 
and  Chile,  50,  100-101,  323,  575. 

Urcos,  lake  of.  111. 

Urubamba  River,  86. 

Uruguay,  52 ; history  of,  leading  up 
to  independence,  349-350 ; area 
and  character  of  country,  350-351 ; 
economic  outlook  for,  354 ; people 
of,  355  ff. ; revolutions  in,  356- 
360  ; Red  and  White  factions,  357  ; 
growth  in  wealth  and  population, 
despite  revolutions,  362-363 ; 
schemes  tending  toward  state 
socialism  in,  363-364 ; an  attrac- 
tive country,  whose  political  con- 
ditions need  remedying,  364-365 ; 
true  national  qualities  possessed 
by,  441  ; lacking  in  Indian  popu- 
lation, 459  ; fitness  of,  for  immi- 
gration, 556-557 ; University  of 
Montevideo  in,  575. 

Uruguay  River,  316,  354. 

Urus,  Indian  tribe,  121,  183. 

Uspallata,  plain  of,  260-261,  267. 

Uspallata  Pass,  250,  280. 

Uyuni,  168,  183,  191,  194-197. 

V 

Valdez,  Dr.,  156. 

Valdivia,  Pedro  de,  218-219,  229 ; 


statue  of,  220,  516 ; invasion  of 
Araucanians’  country  by,  234. 

Valdivia,  town  of,  224,  228-230. 

Valley  of  Desolation,  the,  261,  267. 

Valparaiso,  39;  harbour  of,  212; 
description  of,  212-214;  flourish- 
ing commerce  of,  215-216 ; com- 
parison of  Germans  and  English  at, 
215-216. 

Valverde,  Vicente  de,  97-98. 

Van  Dyck,  paintings  attributed  to, 
67,  97. 

Van  Dyke,  The  Desert  by,  196  n. 

Vega,  Garcilaso  de  la,  117. 

Vegetation,  in  southern  Chile,  241- 
247  ; on  the  Selvas,  558-560. 

Venezuela,  question  of  true  national 
qualities  of,  442. 

Vespuccius,  Americus,  367  n. ; the 
naming  of  the  two  Americas  for, 
484-487. 

Viacha,  railroad  junction,  169,  170, 
186,  187. 

Viceroys,  despotic  power  of  Spanish, 
in  South  America,  535. 

Victoria,  Australia,  decrease  in  birth- 
rate of,  563  n. 

Victoria,  Mt.,  298. 

Vicunas,  82 ; rugs  from  wool  of,  at 
La  Paz,  178. 

Vilcamayu  River,  86,  92,  94,  180; 
ruins  along  valley  of  the,  113. 

Vilcanota,  Sierra  of,  85,  93,  121. 

Vina  del  Mar,  suburb  of  Valparaiso, 
214-215. 

Vinamarca,  Lake,  141,  143. 

Vines,  Mr.,  ascent  of  Aconcagua  by, 
258 ; of  Tupungato,  260  n. 

Vineyards,  at  Mendoza,  263 ; in 
Uruguay,  351. 

Viracocha,  Inca  sovereign,  91  n., 

95. 

Viracocha,  Indian  name  for  white 
man  of  superior  station,  91. 

Virgenes,  Cape,  284,  305,  308. 

Virgin  of  the  Light,  shrine  of,  Copa- 
cavana,  126. 

Virgins  of  the  Sun,  Palace  of  the, 
Koati,  132. 

Volcanoes:  El  Misti,  56-57,  60,  61, 
63,  81,  82,  392;  Ornate,  63,  64  n.; 
Ubinas,  64  n.,  82 ; below  Sicuani, 
93 ; of  Western  Cordillera,  200- 
201. 

Voyages  of  Columbus,  Da  Gama,  and 
Magellan  compared,  282-284. 


INDEX 


611 


w 

Walls,  ruins  of,  at  Cuzco,  103,  105- 
106 ; of  Sacsahuaman,  106  n.,  107- 
112,  118;  on  island  of  Koati,  131 ; 
at  Titi  Kala,  136-137.  See  also 
Ruins. 

War,  prospects  and  possibilities  of, 
in  South  America,  448-451,  569- 
570. 

War  of  Independence,  the,  166,  327 ; 
influence  of,  on  awakening  of 
national  life,  434—436. 

Waterfalls,  Parahyba  River,  387,  389. 

Wealth,  hope  for  political  progress  in 
increase  of,  546-547. 

Western  Cordillera,  55-58,  198,  203. 

West  Indian  negroes,  as  labourers  on 
Panama  Canal,  26  n. 

Westminster  Hall,  island  of,  292. 

Whales,  coast  of  Peru,  43. 

Wheat,  production  of,  in  Argentina, 
336,  351. 

Wild  Indians,  460,  470,  478,  530  n. 

William  III  of  England,  16. 

Wine,  made  at  Mendoza,  263,  336. 


Women  as  priests  among  the  Arau- 
canians,  238. 

Wool,  trade  in,  at  Punta  Arenas,  300- 
301 ; production  of,  in  Uruguay, 
354. 

Y 

Yahgan  tribe  of  Fuegians,  294. 

Yareta  moss  as  fuel,  121,  200. 

Yellow  fever,  on  Isthmus  of  Panama, 
3 ; measures  taken  against,  28-29 ; 
in  city  of  Guayaquil,  40;  former 
inroads  of,  at  Santos,  371-372; 
extinction  of,  at  Rio  de  Janeiro, 
384  ; general  freedom  from,  589. 

Yunca  Indians,  457. 

Yungas,  region  called  the,  177. 

Yupanqui,  Francisco  Tito,  129. 

Yura,  village  of,  Peru,  81. 

Z 

Zambos,  half-breeds  of  Indians  and 
negroes,  66  ; estimated  total  num- 
ber of,  564. 


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